


What’s “wanna go for drinks later?” In French?

by theenjoltairelovingmangogoblin



Series: The Knights and their Musketeer [1]
Category: The Order (TV 2019)
Genre: Erasmus Student, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Werewolf, and a sweetheart, and they were lab partners, la bête de gévaudan, randall is protective, study dates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24893746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theenjoltairelovingmangogoblin/pseuds/theenjoltairelovingmangogoblin
Summary: Amren Chassé is a pre-med student from France at Belgrave.In her first Biology Lab class, she sits with a guy that has fluffy hair and sleep deprivation because, well, he’s a pre-med.And that doesn’t bother her at all, because she always gets an extra coffee, just in case.On her first full moon at Belgrave, she encounters another wolf, but something is familiar about it.—> smut in chapter(s) 7 and ending of 6—> introduction to the knights in chapter 5—> the OC has an Insta acc! It’s @dressedinsilk and she also has a pinterest board (link in the first chapter.)—> my tumblr is @the-knights-of-saint-gay ! Please text me I love talking with you guys——> I try to make one update per week but because oh school its maybe gonna be two weeks, but chapters are eight pages long each or so so it shouldn't be too bad  (there’s also times I get very inspired and stay up all night and post more chapters)
Relationships: Randall Carpio/Fem!OC, Randall Carpio/OC, Randall Carpio/Reader, Randall Carpio/You
Series: The Knights and their Musketeer [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1889296
Comments: 46
Kudos: 51





	1. the smell of sleep deprivation in pre-meds

**Author's Note:**

> The first ish chapters are set before Jack came to Belgrave, so the attention of the knights is on Amren.  
> PS. Here’s a link to Amren’s pinboard on pinterest, there’s gonna be everything about her, but her face, ergo, what she wears and her general aesthetic.  
> https://pin.it/4P6zNfl - if the link doesn’t work, you can always search for “Amren Chassé” on pinterest and you’ll find it.
> 
> Edit: the only reason of the archive warnings is because of some slight bone breaking in chapter three I think but nothing too graphic.

Amren was standing in a excruciatingly slow line to get her coffee.

“Two triple red eyes. For the French girl.” The barista shouted for her. And it was true, she was French; but her accent wasn’t that intense. It’ll be explained later.

“Mine. Mine!-“  
She tried pressing through the crowd of girls that all looked like their names were something like Schayleigh or Jennypher or some other futuristic variation of an otherwise common American name. 

“-Excuse me! Passing through.”  
And then, finally, she was physically able to grab her coffee. And walk out of the shop. She was goning to be damned if she stayed one more minute in a hundred square feet room, squished between purses, textbooks and what probably were students, but smelled more like sleep deprivation and the occasional dudebro who showered in nothing more than an entire can of Axe deodorant.

Then she quickened her pace. Aw. Today was lab day. First lab day at Belgrave.

She wasn’t scared about it, or thinking about her lab skills; those were impeccable.

But she was thinking about the fact that they were probably going to pair her with a classmate.

That was the scary part. Having to work with someone.  
She didn’t have anxiety or anything, she just loved to talk, and she sometimes talked to herself and it wasn’t exactly the best of ways to make friends.

So if they just paired her with a decent human being, she’d be all right. That’s what her two brain cells were telling her at seven in the morning, with two hours of sleep and an ungodly amount of coffee in her system.

Ah, who would’ve warned her that Medicine was so exhausting. Fucking everyone told her. But you can’t just tell her to not study Medicine overseas because it’s not going to be easy. 

If she could survive a monthly week of bleeding and having a wolf as a permanent visitor inside of her, she could do Med.

Anyway, her pace quickened slightly more. 

And before she noticed anything about her environment, she finished her first coffee, and poured the other one -still very warm- into a hydroflask rip-off.

“New record, you sleep deprived, coffee addicted-“ she didn’t want to call herself bitch that early in the morning, only for drinking a big cup of coffee in two minutes, so she settled with calling herself; “-potato.”

Amren threw the empty cup in the trash. Well, she yeeted it, hoping to not miss her target. Which, she did not.

“Amen to that.” She whispered to herself.

Before her was what felt like the gateway to the eighth circle Hell, but actually was an almost unhinged door, because people kept smashing it open.

She took a place somewhere in the second row and sat there, wondering if she had spent all the hot water that morning or if she had bought groceries anytime near this week. Answer was no, to both questions.

A very sleepy student sat next to her. He, also was a bit early and nowhere near spirituality present in the lab. That was probably her new lab partner.

Maybe she should give him coffee? Just to make sure he doesn’t hate her right on? To have a good st- oh my god that hair looks so fluffy. 

“Hey.” She cautiously asked him, poking his shoulder. 

“Hmm?” He tiredly groaned back. 

“I can give you a big, nice, strong cup of triple red eye, if you give me your name.” She offered. It was a good deal, for a College student it was.

“I know that if someone asks you to give them your name, that person is probably Fae, but, in the state I am under right now, I don’tgive the slightest shit.” He said with a flat voice, and damn boy, someone watched way too much conspiracies and tumblr lately. 

He sat right up and cracked his spine, much to Amren’s disturbance. It sounded as if someone just dropped a bag of marbles on a tile floor.

“Hi, my name is Randall.” He smiled, eyes still trying to keep open, his fluffy hair pointing in all directions and looking as cute and as goofy someone on the verge of dying because of studying, exams, and other mentally draining activities, could look.

“And now, I would love to chug that coffee I have rightfully earned.” She pulled out her flask and handed it to him, almost eagerly.

He unscrewed the flask and indeed chugged it down. Amren was a bit busy looking at his Adam’s apple sliding up and down his throat. But in a non creepy way.

Randall finally mustered the power to open his eyes entirely and smile at the girl, giving back the now empty flask.

“And who are you? Seeing as you won’t get rid of me for at least the semester.” He joked. He did look cuter when he didn’t look like he just survived a zombie attack.

“Amren.” She tried to smile not too exaggeratedly. And her lab partner acknowledged that she actually did have a French accent, and it wasn’t just his imagination. It was subtle, but still noticeable, and, sometimes, a turn on.

Nonetheless he didn’t mention it. She was probably tired of people remembering her only because she was French, and not because of how kind she was or how her lashes fluttered when she smiled, or how her voice seemed to be so soft and made you feel safe. That’s what he thought, at least. 

And the professor walked into the class.

“Good morning to you all.” She said. A woman maybe around forty something? She dressed in a pair of camel jeans, a white blouse and some brown oxfords. Her dirty blonde hair was in a French roll, she looked like a single mom who is stressed out by her children and probably takes a glass of red wine before bed.

“I hope you don’t hate the person sitting next to you, because you’re gonna be lab partners for the rest of the semester.” She said, laying down her notebooks and textbooks and other teacher stuff on her desk.

Randall bumped her leg with his knee, playfully. You could say he wasn’t disappointed by his lab partner.  
“I’m psychic.” He sang in a whisper.

Amren couldn’t help but notice his fluffy hair still as messy as before, and under all that, a pair of chocolate eyes. And a secret.


	2. “What do you mean, another werewolf on campus?” “I literally just explained it.”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So. The assignment.” She asked, as friendly as she could.
> 
> “Yeah.” He said. “I have a couple of classes right now, and a thing to attend to, ASAP.” Randall was fidgety. But not the “I Will Be Late For Class” or the “Teenager Crush” fidgety. More like the “I Really Gotta Go Now Because Someone Could Die.” kinda fidgety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry it took me like five days to write but I am writing the next chapter as soon as I publish this one.

The sun was shining higher in the sky when the Bio Lab class ended. 

“Before dismissal, listen up, people. “ The professor, Mrs. Fyfe, made all her students groan inside and sit back down again. 

“For the next class, I want you all to know your partner’s favorite plant and animal, and why. This will count in the final grade.” The next class was tomorrow. 

“Dismissed.” She said, packing all of her stuff together.

Amren and Randall walked out of the lab together.   
Once they were on the grassy part of campus, Amren opened up her mouth.

“So. The assignment.” She asked, as friendly as she could.

“Yeah.” He said. “I have a thing to attend to, ASAP.” Randall was fidgety. But not the “I Will Be Late For Class” or the “Teenager Crush” fidgety. More like the “I Really Gotta Go Now Because Someone Could Die.” kinda fidgety.

“Sure.” She said. Amren wasn’t going to question him, they only knew each other since a few hours. 

“But!” He pointed his finger at her in excitement. “We can meet at the blade and chalice? At six?” He asked. Amren had to decide now.

“Yeah.” She nodded eagerly. He sighed in comfort, because some people might’ve taken that as a date proposal. This wasn’t a date proposal.

“Nice. See you later alligator!” And started walking really fast, and then running, direction forest.

“Right. Next class.” She told herself, and also wandered off.

“What do you mean, another werewolf on campus?” Lilith asked. A sliver of fear in her voice.

“I literally just explained it.” Hamish said, taking another sip of his drink, making her roll her eyes dramatically.

“Tundra told me another wolf came to campus.” He said.

“But?” Randall intertemporal . There was going to be a but.

“But it’s a much older one. A European werewolf.” He explained.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked.

“That the person wearing the hide is European. And that it could literally be older than the Catholic Church.” 

“So we’re looking for an old dude?”

“No?” Randall mocked, making her roll her eyes again.

“But what’s so important about this wolf?” The fluffy haired asked.

“That we don’t know it’s intentions.” The leader pointed out. “It might be a threat to the knights, it might be here for the Order, or it might just be someone who studies or works here.”

“Or maybe they thought the Knights of Saint Christopher are cool as fuck.” Randall kinda asked.

“We don’t know yet. But we may only find out tonight.” Hamish sighed.

“How come?” He asked.

“European wolves only turn on full moons. They had to adapt during the Middle Ages and witch hunts.” Hamish, as always, did his research in the Knights of Saint Christopher’s archives.

“And the close they can get to turning when it’s not a full moon is making their eyes glow either gold or silver. I think that’s about status.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt this super fun meeting, but I really have an important lecture and I have to be somewhere after.” Randall said, finishing his drink and standing up.

Lilith started to poke his side, repeatedly.  
“Randall has a date, Randall has a date!” She sang.

“No I don’t! It’s for a biology thing!” He tried explaining.

“So you’re gonna study anatomy?” Hamish chuckled. They were all just a bunch of twelve-year-olds with scholarships.

Randall closed his eyes an opened the slowly and dramatically and bit his lower lip.

“I don’t know, what do you do when you go see the Chancellor, Hamish?” He stared down at him, standing up from the couch.

Hamish’s expression went from Dumb of Ass to I Will Kill You Tonight.  
“I told you it’s because she needs-“ he was interrupted mid sentence.

Lilith was cackling in the background, just enjoying the scene.

“Sure, yeah. Gotta go.” Randall interrupted and walked out the door, leaving the blond behind, a bit offended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good day! I hope you enjoyed the second chapter.  
> Also, the pinboard I mentioned in the first chapter has been updated and I will continue updating it.


	3. Goodnight.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They walked one minute in a total silence. Awkward silence, where they both knew they could say something and it would be socially acceptable and the other would answer, more or less honestly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyya!  
> This chapter may seem the most boring shit ever but I promise the end is cool.

The Blade and Chalice was a cozy little student bar.

It was two minutes past six.

“Aw fuck I’m gonna be late.” Amren quickened her pace.

“Hey!” Someone shouted from behind her, although she wasn’t sure if to catch her attention. “Hey! Amren!” It was to catch her attention.

“Oh. Hi!” She stopped in her tracks. It was Randall, who obviously was a bit late too. 

The young man walked in her direction as she waited for him.

“Hi! I hope this is the right direction?” She asked, goofily. There was something unlawfully cute about it, and he thought so too.

“Yep, it’s right that way. Don’t stress.” He said, and continued walking in that general direction, closely followed by her.

They walked one minute in a total silence. Awkward silence, where they both knew they could say something and it would be socially acceptable and the other would answer, more or less honestly.

They walked into the bar and settled down in one of the booths in the back.

It was still awkward. But it wasn’t a date, so what the fuck? 

The waitress came to take their orders; a beer for the lad, and a coffee with a whiskey shot for the lass. Please don’t question her drink choices, she’s a pre-med and questions herself enough.

“Okay. So. Favorite plant?” He asked, taking a sip from his beer.

“Hm.” She knew the answer, but she was concentrated with mixing the coffee and the alcohol together and not spilling it over, Randall was mesmerized with the swirls the mixture made, and her tiny little hands with a band aid on the phalange of her right ring finger.

“Poppies. Definitely.” She said. She put the tiny spoon on her tiny coffee plate and took a nice long sip.

“And why?” He asked, pulling out his phone to type it down.

“Because you can’t pick them. And if you do, their bright red petals will wither and turn black, and fall on the ground, leaving a path of black petals on the ground. It’s like the flower wants you to know that you killed her.” 

She said in a monotone voice as stared into her cup of dark insanity. A bit creepy if you ask me.

Randall swallowed hard at that. She was European so she obviously had to have to be at least a bit of gloominess to her.

“Well I like rosemary.” He smiled.  
“My grandmother used to make the best sauté potatoes with rosemary in the entire world.” 

His mouth watered just thinking about it. They really were otherworldly. They probably still were, he just wasn’t there to know because he was at college.

“And what about your favorite animal?” Amren asked, taking yet another sip of her potion. And surprisingly she was still sane after it. It is expresso and whiskey after all.

“Owls!” He emphasized, excited like a little kid. “They can turn their heads around completely and they have bizarrely long legs.” He explained.

“They do. It’s unsettling.” She added. It was.

“What about you?” He asked, with another sip of his beer.

“I’d say wolves.” And she took another sip, the last one. “Imagine being one, running through the forest. Seeing the moon and howling at her in pain, because she’s the one that always sees you for what you truly are.” She said. 

And in that second, they both knew what she meant. The feeling of being nothing more than a beast; a familiar thought.

The possibility that Amren was the wolf the Knights were looking for teased at Randall’s conscious.

“And they’re so fucking pretty.” She said, noticing the ambiance she had created for a few seconds.

“So fucking pretty.” He stared into the void, thinking about how Greybeard was ugly as a stale potato.

Changing subjects, to something more normal.

“And listen, I know you’re European and stuff, but what the is that?” He gestured at the empty cup.

“Oh. That.”

Amren tied her hair back in a low tail, and surprisingly didn’t look like a founding father. 

“I grew up in a small town outside n France, and my dad and uncle would always take me to the pub on Sunday afternoons, and they both always ordered them. And this once, I was around sixteen or seventeen and my dad ordered one for me. And it was surprisingly not that bad, so now I order them to feel more at home in this country.” 

It was a true story. Kind of. She left out why her dad ordered her one. 

“Well I’d like to tell you why I order beer but it’s not such a nice story.”

“Spill it.” She said, signal-ordering another of her whiskey-coffee combos.

“When I was fourteen I my cousin gave me my first beer ever, and I loved it, so I swore that I would drink beer for the rest of my life. Turns out it wasn’t beer. It was sprite with food coloring. But I did swear it, and now I have to.” He took a sip from his beer.

“Do you only drink beer?” She asked, very worried.

“Oh fuck no. Only when I go out. I’m a pre-med, not a philosophy student.” He cackled, making her smile.

He was funny. And Amren enjoyed his company, after all, she didn’t have a shared dorm and she was way too shy to actually make friends on her own. Randall was chill. And so fucking cute. And she knew that he was cute and had nice fluffy hair and chocolate eyes and this very goofy grin. 

He liked her company too. Only hanging out with the Knights was never boring, but it was always nice to have at least one more friend.

Amren felt her heart begin to beat faster. 

“Hey, do you know what time it is?” She asked.

“Um.” He looked at the watch. “Around six thirty, why?”

She knew why it was beating faster. It was almost nighttime.

“I gotta be home before nightfall. I forgot my rape-whistle.” She tried to excuse herself, and she had her whistle in her bag. It still was early, and the sun set at half past seven in that point of the year.

“I could accompany you, if it makes you feel safer.” It did make her safer but it probably wasn’t as safe for him to be with her that specific night.

“I mean sure, but I’d still like to be home before dark, I have something to take care of.” 

“Sure, yeah.”

The waiter came by with her cursed coffee, and she proceeded to mix it accordingly.

“Wanna try?” She asked, effectively changing the subject.

“I won’t get sick, right?” He looked at the cup very worriedly. And who can blame him, it’s a chaotic cocktail.

“You shouldn’t get sick, at least.”

Amren handed him the cup carefully, and Randall seized it the best he could; it being a small cup and her hands already on it, but he brushed some of her fingertips and both pretended they didn’t notice.

“That’s good enough for me.” 

The brunet took a surprisingly long sip.

“Oh.” He said once he had swallowed it. 

“It’s awesome. Hamish would love it.”

“Hamish?” 

“I have this friend, and he’s an “alcohol aficionado” 

“But not an alcoholic?” She questioned, and perfectly understandable at that.

“He just really likes mixing cocktails.” He emphasized on the really.

It was a lovely conversation, and it went on for a while.   
They talked about the struggles of being a pre-med, and other things they wouldn’t recall the morning after.

Amren’s heart was beating faster and faster every minute, but she ignored it, it wasn’t the first time either.

“Do you want me to walk you back? It’s almost half past seven.” He asked.

“Yeah. I’d appreciate that.”

And they went on their way. And people started saying stuff about them. Well. One girl did. Something of the likes of “OMG it’s the French girl! Is that her boyfriend?”

Amren was one of the few Erasmus students at Belgrave; being French sounded so sexy, and of course people had been mildly gossiping about her sometimes. But just as the French girl. Nothing more.

The pair of them were peacefully walking in the direction of her dorm.

The sun was shining golden on the mid September sunset sky. A few clouds on the horizon and some ducks were on their way south.

Amren glanced at Randall, just quick enough so he wouldn’t notice and long enough to appreciate him facing the sun.

He looked ethereal, bathed in the golden light. His eyes were no longer that rich chocolate brown; they looked more like oak barrel whiskey, or honey, even, and they looked so enchanting.

Sunsets are really fast. More than you’d think.

Now the sky looked like cotton candy. It looked like one of those renaissance paintings everyone knows but doesn’t know the name.

Randall looked over to Amren for one second.

The light was dimmer. And it was delicate and almost pale, as if the only thing holding it up were those soft lavender clouds.

The girl looked like a nymph; with that celestial background, her features were ever so sublime. She didn’t look like a nymph, she looked like the angel that greets you when you get to heaven.

“This is me.” She said, stopping barely three feet apart from the door. 

“Thanks for the company.” A soft smile forming on her lips.

“Thanks for the coffee.” A lighthearted smile on his lips. Probably a remarkable first meeting.

“No problem.” It really wasn’t one. She didn’t plan on drinking it anyway.   
“I’ll be on my way.” 

“Yeah. Me too.” He finger gunned at her. “See you tomorrow in the lab?”

“Definitely. Can’t wait.”

The sun was dangerously low. The streetlights were flickering on. Amren’s heart was going to break her ribs at this rate.   
A few steps forward and she unlocked the door with the key.

“See ya!” And she waved really fast and closed the door ran up the stairs to her dorm. Randall was a bit startled. It was probably a femenine thing. Or something. He went on his way to the Den.

The girl grabbed a bag. Tossed in some clothes and water and snacks, her keys wallet and school stuff too. 

She looked through the window.   
A nice and deep forest behind it. It looked safe, at least for what she was going to do in it tonight.

“It’s not so far from the ground.” She told herself, it sounded like she wanted to convince herself more than stating a fact.

She opened it, climbed through it and carefully sat on the outside part of the windowsill to close it again.

“I hope I don’t break another fucking limb this time.” And jumped down. Limbs intact; nice.

It was almost dark. She ran into the forest as if her life depended on it. It probably did.  
Amren was fast. Insanely fast. Inhumanely fast. That had only one explanation.

“Putain.” The moon was getting higher and higher in the sky.

Once she was deep enough in the forest, she undressed and put her used clothes in the bag, which she then threw in a tree. 

That was going to be a problem for future Amren.

She looked at the moon. Bare skin and dirty feet on the fresh fallen leaves.

She felt as if the moon grinned devilishly back at her, and then, she heard all her bones break at once, making her crumble to the ground in pain.

Amren looked up at the moon with her own eyes one more time, before they turned these fiery red orbes of light, that absorbed you the same way the chains of hell bound the sinners.

The beast was out of its human cage.

Goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so. Amren is obviously a werewolf. But that on one side, I was thinking of doing a playlist for the story/for Amren and I thought it was a good idea if y’all contributed by telling me names of songs in the comments.  
> Will update soon!


	4. Harvest moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was an exceptional night; the first and only full moon of September - the harvest moon. 
> 
> The stars danced in harmony with the cosmos on the dark mantle of the night sky.
> 
> Amren wouldn’t have known. She wasn’t there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii  
> I got very enthusiastic with this so I wrote this chapter overnight because I had an energy drink, but hope it’s ok.

It was an exceptional night; the first and only full moon of September - the harvest moon. 

The stars danced in harmony with the cosmos on the dark mantle of the night sky.

Amren wouldn’t have known. She wasn’t there.

There was only The Beast.  
Or La Bête, if we’re going to be authentic.

Now, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.

The Beast of Gévaudan.  
A beast that killed 113 people and injured 49 between 1764 and 1767 in the province of Gévaudan, what is today known as Lozére and Haute-Loire. It was hunted down because of it, naturally.

It was “reported dead” a handful of times before the attacks actually ended.

But of course, it was neither dead or just one wolf. Or a wolf, for that matter. 

It was a very widespread pack of werewolves.

It’s a very interesting story, really. Stories. There’s a lot of them going around.  
The most popular one is that some religious nutcases settled in the capital and kidnapped a dozen prisoners in 1764 and tied them down to rusty surgery tables.

They forced the hides into them, for some kind of sin cleansing. I told you, religious nutcases. 

And because the wolves didn’t choose their champions, they were out of control. 

The twelve men remained tied down and in separate dungeon cells, for some reason that these god-adoring fuck-wits didn’t tell them.

Until the full moon came. These twelve werewolves weren’t men and weren’t wolves; they were the chaotic result of force-turning; what we could call “demon wolves”, 30 inch tall beasts when they were standing on all fours, and when not, 120 inches. May not sound that scary, and it wasn’t, but they were unpredictable, bloodthirsty, and starved. 

So they broke the holy fuck out of there and hid in the woodlands of the province, killed a couple of people and at some point realized that they were going to be hunted and killed.

The men separated from the hides that were forced into them, and so, the men died. And what were reported as the killer beasts were wolf-dogs with genetic mutations. You can look it up in Wikipedia.

A few decades later, people started feeling more comfortable in the mountains and forest, so they obviously had to go for a stroll.

Some of them found the hides and thought “oh, a new cloak” and brought them home.

The hides began selecting champions again and being normal wolves and just hunting down lame preys. Thus, seeming like just some Really Big Wolves and in majority, harmless. 

But one of those demon wolves was not separated. It remained until 1767, as the last beast. That one they killed with a silver bullet.

It had fathered two pups and had a partner, who later were also killed and the one of these pups that was killed had a hereditary malformation, and let’s call that a result of werewolf STDs.

And there is nothing reported about the other pup. It may have been a werewolf and later turned into a hide, but, who knows.

What the facts were, that there were only twelve werewolves originated in southern France. 

Back to our beast, now.

The Beast, or what they called Amren’s hide, Sanguinaire; the bloodthirsty, was running through the woods.

A slightly bigger than usual with charcoal grey fur, rust brown eyes and generally stunning wolf howled at the moon.

Another howl, from the distance.  
Another wolf? No.

Another werewolf.

Sanguinaire raced towards it and stopped just a dozen feet before it; a big, pitch black, horrendously human werewolf.

The other wolf noticed this presence, and walked towards it once it had gotten on all fours.

The golden eyed one growled in warning. The black one too in return. It said it’s name.

“Greybeard, the fearless one.” It said.

“Sanguinaire, the bloodthirsty.” 

It was a conversation between werewolves; grunts and growls and howls.

“I am no threat.” The bloodthirsty said.

“What are you, then?”

Sanguinaire knew what Amren was, and they knew that they couldn’t tell this wolf who Amren was. 

“I am an ally, if you’ll have me.”

The bigger wolf rumbled under his breath.

“But who are you?”

“I think you know me. I know your smell.”

To be honest, it wasn’t a very difficult dilemma; the name of the wolf was French, Amren was French. 

But it wasn’t difficult either to find out who Greybeard was; those dark eyes were not unfamiliar. Something about this wolf was recognizable from somewhere else.

The smaller wolf gleamed their eyes crimson red and paced away into the shadows of the trees, leaving the big one alone.

It was six am. The sky was begging to brighten up with the first fragile rays of sunlight.

The wolf was running faster and faster to where it had turned almost eleven hours before, where the bag was. 

The early sun brushed the tips of the wolf’s ears and some of their fur.

Once they arrived, Sanguinaire laid down in exhaustion. They still had a couple of minutes to see the American sun dawn in a new day.

It felt refreshing, and despite the name Sanguinaire had, it was because of what happened in the late 1760s. They were a friendly and peaceful being. The name didn’t fit them, and now they could change it.

Sanguinaire’s rusty eyes reverted back into the calm gaze of Amren Chassé, and looking at the sun, they felt like the ghostly September breeze was saying “you’re going to be okay.”

And then the sun rose from behind the horizon, and just as that the pre-med was back again.

She got her back down, somehow, and tidied herself up with a towel, some deodorant and dressed up for class.

The girl was on her way to the small convenience store on campus, and leaving the towel and dirty clothes in her dorm on her way there.

“I’ll have one... two triple red eyes and this.” She gestured to the two cans of Monster in front of her. 

The poor old lady cashier was probably quite familiarized with whatever the fuck university students got at a convenience store at six am.

“That’ll be eight fifty.”

She handed it to her and went on her way to yet another magnificent lab bio class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there’s only notes at the end because need to ask something that if I’d have asked at the beginning it could’ve been spoiler:  
> Do you understand that the Amren’s hide, Sanguinaire, is the surviving child of the last of the beasts of Gévaudan?  
> Also, I use the neutral they/them for Sanguinaire because it’s a supernatural being and thus doesn’t need gender but I use He/Him for greybeard because it’s canon.


	5. Storytime with the knights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at the Den, the three were discussing.
> 
> “I could literally just bring her here and talk like civilized wolves.”
> 
> “We don’t know if she’s dangerous!” Lilith remarked.
> 
> “She invited me to coffee twice. She’s fucking adorable.” Randall defended her.
> 
> “Randall bringing her here first sounds less kidnapey.” Hamish reasoned.
> 
> “Fine, but you will not knock her out as soon as she crosses the door.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god im so sorry for my five day absence but i promise that from this episode on there’s gonna be fluff and kisses and happy couple shit (also chaotic dumbass stuff because Randall is a chaotic dumbass like his newfound gf) and maybe even some explicit stuff

The lab was still closed.

“The sun is not even really risen.” Amren muttered to herself and went to the grassy part of campus again and sat on a bank.

She watched silently as the birds woke up and started chirping. As the professors, cleaners and students walked through campus with no facial expression.

Now it was open. The lab, I mean. The cleaner had opened it.

She walked to her desk and put down her two cans and two cups.

She looked hesitantly. There was no possible way that she could chug down almost half a gallon of liquid in less than five minutes.

A terrible idea.

Amren took the lid off of one of the coffees and opened one of the monster cans.

She heard a few steps behind her, that didn’t stop her.

“I’m going to die.” 

She poured the Monster into her coffee and drank the whole thing in ten seconds, just before noticing Randall had sat down next to her.

He looked almost dead that morning. If yesterday he looked tired, today he looked like a fresh corpse.

“What was that.” He asked.

“Hopefully an energy boost.” She responded, already preparing the next one and noticing she was almost full.

“You look like you need one too.”

Amren handed her partner the cup.

“But I already owe you for yesterday.”

“You can make it up to me later.” 

He accepted the poison. And chugged it down in less than eight seconds.

“Why do you have such unhealthy but effective ideas with drinks?” He asked, beginning to be fully awake.

They still had the whole lab to themselves, but the prof could arrive anytime now.

She shrunk her shoulders.

“Anyway. What’s “Wanna go for drinks later?” In French?” He smirked boyishly.

“It’s “veux aller boire un verre plus tard?”. Why?” She obviously wasn’t fully awake yet, and completely oblivious to him asking her out.

“Vu alleh buah ah vegge plu-tar?” He tried to pronounce. Failed at it, but at least he was asking her out.

Then it dawned on her. A date? Or just making up for the two breakfast drinks she gave him?

“Uh. Uhm.” She crunched the two cans together and put one paper cup inside the other. 

“Sure, yeah.” She smiled innocently.

The prof walked in, half a dozen more students a few seconds after her. Amren stood up to throw her garbage into the trashcan and sat back down.

Randall leaned closer to her and murmured something a few inches away from her face.

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

And the class began.

Amren scrunched her nose. That smell. Of antiques, pinewood and wet soil. Greybeard.

Randall glanced at Amren with the corner of his eye. She smelled like oak, red wine and dried blood.  
The wolf from last night.

Neither of them mentioned anything.

The idea that his lab partner was the foreign wolf had crossed his mind and tugged at his subconscious. But now he knew.

They were both lost in their own thoughts; spaced out.

“Hey lovebirds, tell us what you found out yesterday.” The professor asked. At least half the class laughed.

“His favorite animal are owls because they’ve got long legs. And his favorite plant is rosemary because of culinary reasons.” She explained. She remembered every detail about why rosemary but she had the feeling that maybe not everyone wanted to know specifically about them.

“Amren’s favorite animals are wolves because she wants to be one.” Actually, she was one. “And her favorite plants are poppies because if you pick them their petals fall off and turn black, and she finds that poetic in a goth way.”

He said, without missing a beat.

“That’s very good. I’m glad you did your homework.” They always did their fucking homework. This teacher was just a bitch.

The students laughed and the class continued as usual.

It was almost seven. 

Amren was getting ready; lacing up her good shoes and putting on her favorite denim jacket.

She was wearing her favorite socks; the Mona Lisa socks she got overpriced at the Louvre last time she was there, the plaid pants she found criminally cheap at a thrift store and a white knitted top, tugged in. 

“I don’t look very different.” She told her reflection in the mirror. 

She didn’t look different. She wasn’t wearing a date night outfit, but then again, she didn’t know if it was one.

She decided to not do anything about the outfit and put on some deodorant and her perfume.

Amren looked hesitant at all her makeup. She shouldn’t. But what if she did? Nope. Nope. 

The doorbell rang.

She ran downstairs to open the door, where she found Randall, looking a bit guilty.

“Before you say anything; I’m sorry and I was completely against it.” 

The confused girl walked out the door, closing it after her. “What?”

Lilith whacked Amren unconscious, who fell backwards to the floor, and before she hit it like a corpse, Randall caught her.

“If she changes lab partners after this I’ll be really mad at you, Lil.” 

He picked the unconscious girl up, and carried her on piggy back to the Den. It was less suspicious that way, and he found comfort in feeling her breath against the skin just over his clavicle, he said it was to make sure that Amren was breathing, but he knew that it was because, in first place, it would be his fault if she got a concussion, and in second, he still owed her something.

Amren began opening her eyes. She was tied to a chair in a living room, in front of a couch, an armchair and a weird pouffe.

“Hey, Randall.” A blue eyed man called for him. “Your girlfriend is awake.”

Randall ran inside the room.

“Are you okay, does your head hurt?” He asked, preoccupied.

The kidnapped was watching the scene, perplexed, confused, and outraged.

“What the fuck, dude?”

“I’m really sorry about all of this, I told them we could’ve just asked politely if you were the werewolf on campus and you’d answer-“

“I am.” 

He was very surprised. He knew it may be her but he didn’t know for sure, turns out he was right.

“Just like that?” Another girl asked. Also dark haired, and a bit suspicious about her answer.

“Yeah! Not anybody in their right state of mind would believe me! Not unless they were werewolves, eh, Greybeard?” 

She smirked at him.

“Did you tell her?” The blue eyed asked, losing his patience.

“No. He didn’t.” She said before he had the chance to. “I figured it out the same way he did me. Smell.”

“See! I told you! She’s smart!”

“Dude, we’re both pre-meds.” She chuckled.

“I assume you two are wolves too.” She gestured her head in their direction.  
“Hmmm. The smell is quite characteristic.”

“Yes. The Knights of Saint Christopher. I’m Hamish, she’s Lilith.” The blue-eyed said. Hamish. 

“But before we untie you, what are you here for?” 

Why do people assume every mythical being has some kind of battle to fight or some shit? 

“I got into Belgrave and it’s gonna look great on my resume.”

“So you’d consider joining the team?” Randall asked. He had gotten something really heavy off his chest. Well two things; she wasn’t bad and she wasn’t using him.

“If you untie me I will.”

“We have questions.” Lilith thundered in.

“Cool.”

“You’re not leaving until we’re done.” 

“As long as I get something out of it.”

They were all imagining something twisted and unethical.

“I heard Hamish here makes excellent cocktails. Please?”

Randall smiled. Hamish was content. Lilith was a bit suspicious and murderous, but then again, when wasn’t she?

“Untie her, Randall.” 

He obeyed. He untied all the knots as fast as he could and carefully not to hurt her.

“Sorry.” He whispered as she stood up.

“You still owe me drinks.” She whispered back. “Make it up to me then.”

She had been literally kidnapped less than an hour ago. He had literally betrayed her trust. And yet, she was still so understanding. I mean, she would’ve done the same right?

“Deal.” He smiled.

Lilith on one end of the couch, legs crossed; Randall on the opposite end, with his arm on the armrest; and Amren, who sat on the ground, holding her knees and using Randall’s armrest like a backrest.

Hamish put the drinks down on the table, but handed Amren’s directly to her. Probably to make up for the abduction part. Then sat down on the armchair and spread his legs, leaning his elbows on his knees and resting his chin in his hands.

“Why do you only turn on full moons?” Hamish asked.

“The legend had to come somewhere.”

“But why do we turn whenever we want to?”

“Hides are made by magic, thus, by a witch, and it’s just a spell so you can alter some details.”

“So, basically, it’s like, fashion?” Lilith asked.

“I mean, it sure can be described that way; some witches wanted it to be like a curse and some wanted it to be like a superpower.”

“What color are your eyes.” Hamish asked.

Amren closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, they were just as Randall remembered them.  
Burning like a wildfire, and they consumed him, of which he was well aware.

“Shouldn’t they be golden or silver?” Lilith asked.

“That’s more about status.”

“What is your status?”

“Well, you’ve probably heard of the Gévaudan incidents back in 1764.

“You’re the Beast of Gévaudan?” Hamish asked, amazed.

The girl was thinking how to explain it exactly, when she noticed that Randall was playing with her hair, softly massaging her scalp. A shiver down her spine, and he noticed, and didn’t stop doing it. She didn’t even mention it. Why? Because there was something about it, about him, that just felt right.

She snapped out of it. 

“Sanguinaire is his child.” She explained.  
“Terreur, the so called King of the Beasts, had two children; one of them had a mutation and the other is my hide, Sanguinaire.”

“So you’re basically the Princess of the Beasts?” 

“Never thought of it that way, but yeah, I guess.”

Randall was still busy with her hair. And since her back was leaning against the armrest he was using, it gave him the perfect opportunity to do so and not be noticed by the two other knights.

The evening went on with normal werewolf questions, like if she heard the ringing of magic; which she didn’t. Or why she turned fully into a wolf, to which she explained the whole story of the Beasts of Gévaudan and the religious dudes and the abducted prisoners, the curse vs superpower thing from earlier and so forth.

“Any more questions?” Amren asked.

It was late. Very late. Almost dawn. Lilith and Hamish were tired; on the counterpart, Amren and Randall had those monster-coffee cocktails earlier, and they still lasted.

The two tired knights retired to their bedrooms and went to sleep, at least for two hours or so, and the other two stayed downstairs.

“Hey, have you ever skated at dawn?”

She had, and she absolutely loved it. She hadn’t skated since she arrived, but she was anxious to. 

“Nope, but I like the way you’re thinking.”

The rest is not that important, really. The two of them stood up and walked out, all the way to her dorm to get the board.

Randall showed her to an empty parking lot nearby.

“Isn’t that very small?” He asked. 

“It’s a penny board. It’s not very big, but it’s fast.” 

“Show me.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

The girl put the end of the board on the asphalt, holding the other one with her hand and placed her foot on the front, preparing to slide on and roll away.  
And that she did.

She slid-slash-jumped on the plastic surface and after a few seconds, she took a long stride to impulse herself.

Did a little zigzagging around the lot, and circled back to her friend, who was a bit amazed at her skill.

“Your turn.” She handed him the board.

Randall placed it on the ground and found a comfortable position.

“Please help me here I don’t want to crack my skull open like an egg.”

He reached out to her with one hand.

She held it firmly in response and told him:  
“I’ll catch you if you fall.”

He nodded in response, and took a small stride forward, concentrating but smiling nonetheless.

“You’re doing it!” She cheered, and he took another stride, a bigger one this time.

The wheel rolled over gravel.

Randall lost balance, and fell off.

Amren caught him, the sudden addition of weight caught her off guard and she fell on her back and butt, one hand on Randall, instinctively protecting him.

She was laying on the ground, legs spread out from the fall; He was almost kneeling in between her legs, both hands on each of her side to support him so he wouldn’t push her again into the asphalt.

Their faces were inches apart from each other.

It was all so easy to admire from that angle. 

Amren could feel his breathing, or rather the absence of it, and the absence of her own.

She tried propping herself up a bit with one hand, making him move back too.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, before getting rid of the distance separating them.

His lips placed the softest and chastest of kisses on hers. And separated again, looking at her with heart eyes.

With the hand she had free, she placed it on the back of his neck.

“Don’t be.”

And broke it again.

His lips were on hers and neither could get any thoughts in order.  
Randall snaked his hand around her waist to hold her closer and give her support.

The situation was heating up with every second that went by; her hand that wasn’t busy with intertwining her fingers in his soft curls was holding his hoodie in a fist. 

One of his hands was still on the asphalt, while the one around her waist had found its way into her shirt, making every single bone in her body tremble and her skin shiver.

His lips tasted so good. 

And the question he had been asking himself the whole evening, wether it was true or not that the French are excellent kissers, had just been confirmed.

The sun and the moon were on the sky, watching them, the cold and pale sky was beginning to drown out all the stars as the time passed.

And they were both out of breath.

They slowly started de-escalating the heat of the moment, and separated just enough so they were both able to breathe again.

“I really like you, but you still owe me a date.” She chuckled.

“Good. I’m picking you up this evening.” And he kissed her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn’t know how to write the kids because it’s been like six months since I’ve kissed anyone and Also my yearning for Randall Carpio is not getting any better so I wanted to get this part right or as best as I could and this came out! I hope that’s ok  
> Will try to update soon!


	6. Foliè a Deux and Riding shotgun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t fuck in my car, Randall!” He yelled as Randall raced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m literally so sorry I abandoned you for like a week+ but I promise I’ll write as much as I can and as soon as possible.  
> SEND ME PROMPTS AND IDEAS FOR CHAPTERS. Like, going to the gym, send me a tumblr textpost (my tumblr is the-knights-of-saint-gay and my insta is blacksailed, you can also just comment the prompt/link)

Amren was sitting in her bathtub, in a shirt, some panties and the messiest, most ragged looking hair ever.

She was nervous, to say the least. 

Randall had told her that he’d pick her up at seven. And she still wasn’t dressed. 

She got out of the tub and took off her clothes, ready to shower; she had one hour left.

At the Den, the Knights were teasing Randall.

“When is she coming back here?” Lilith asked.

She wasn’t asking because she liked her, more because if Randall came back there with Amren that night, they’d rather not hear it.

“Dude. It’s literally just a date.” He excused himself.

“That’s why you want to borrow my car?” Hamish smirked slyly at him. 

“Okay. I might really like her.”

“There he is.” The leader took a sip from his drink. 

“Randall has a date! Randall has a date!” His friends began to sing, he just stared daggers at them.

Amren was staring at her clothes. She didn’t know what to wear.

Something cute and sexy? Maybe something practical? Aw fuck, why was it so difficult.

A lightbulb lit up in her mind. 

She walked out of her closet and into her room, grabbed the phone from the charger, opened spotify and blasted her favorite album.

Tiffany Blews by Fall Out Boy started resonating inside her three-room apartment, and perhaps the street.

Amren, still with the towel around her body and the other on her hair, went to the closet again.

She pulled out some decent underwear and black tights, her most casual dress and some vans.

She dressed herself, laced up the shoes and went into the bathroom again as the next song played; I Don’t Care blasted through every wall of her tiny apartment.

After hanging up the two wet towels, she looked at herself in the mirror. No, she searched her reflection for flaws, contradicting the song that was still blasting from her room.

Of course she pointed them out to herself, that’s what everyone does before a date; have an existential crisis.

Maybe her skin wasn’t looking as impeccable as always, or her lashes were feeling sadder than usual, or some other bullshit she’d come up with. She decided it wasn’t worth it.

Amren put on her deodorant and her perfume, went quickly to her room to grab the phone, and walked out again, into the kitchen, where her jacket and bag were.

She still had fifteen minutes left.

Now; back to the other three feral crackheads.

“You’re basically dating! Doesn’t that kinda make her an ally?” Hamish said from next to the bar, looking at the other male, almost ready for his date.

“What do you mean by ally?” Lilith asked, tilting her head at the leader, while she sat very questionably on one of the armchairs.

“I mean that she could be an important asset to the Knights.”

“So basically, you’re saying that she’d kinda, sorta, be one of us?” Randall questioned, and he was excited about it if he was being honest.

“If you want to put it that way, yeah.” He said.

“Well, in case anyone wants my opinion, I’m against it.” That being said, both guys looked at her in confusion.

“She’s been here less than a month, and you’re already talking about taking her in?” She said. Lilith was usually sketchy, they just had to convince her.

“I’m literally just here because I stopped a kidnapping and Hammock happened to see it.” Randall defended her. Hamish rolled his eyes in disapproval of the nickname. “We already know that Amren is worthy of being a werewolf. How different can the champion-choosing criteria be in France?” He justified, waving his hands around.

“Her hide directly translates to Bloodthirsty.” 

“Okay, in first place, she does have a point.” Hamish explained.  
“So she’s going to be under trial until after the next full moon, and if she fucks up, we kill her.”

“Oh come on! Not her, dude, she’s literally my partner!” Randall objected, uselessly.

Lilith muttered a small “yes” in the background while pulling her fist down to show her excitement. Which made Randall stare daggers at her and flip her off.

“And in second, you have-“ he looked at his phone. “- eight minutes to go and pick her up.”

He stood up and walked towards the door, finger gunning his two fellow knights, and once he was out of the house, where nobody could see him, he lightened his pace until he was almost running towards Fiddler’s Avenue 32, aka Amren’s apartment.

“Don’t fuck in my car, Randall!” He yelled as Randall raced out.

Amren was sitting on the windowsill of the window next to her bed. Her legs hung out of it and she sat on her bed, enjoying a nice cup of Ciroc; her favorite vodka.

Her phone rang.  
“Fluffy” was calling.

“I’m here!” Randall said on the other side of the line. Yes, Amren had added Randall as Fluffy in her contacts, wouldn’t you? His hair is fluffy isn’t it?

“Be there in a minute!” She hung up.

She downed the last sip of alcohol like a shot, went to the kitchen to stuff two or three mints in her mouth to kill the alcohol taste in her mouth and grabbed her bag, opened the door, closed it behind her, ran the first two flights of stairs down and slid down the handrail of the last one.

Just to see her date standing there, with his fluffy hair, and his chocolate eyes. And apparently, maybe a bit flustered?

She opened the front door.

“Hi!” She peeked over his shoulder.

“Hey!” 

They looked at each other as if they were ten-year-olds with a crush. So innocent.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked.

Randall sighed.

He explained how he hadn’t had a date in a while because of the knights and school, and that he borrowed Hamish’s car and he had a chick-fil-a discount and how he hoped that’d be okay. And it was.  
To her, nothing sounded better than that.

And they went on their way to the car.

Both of them were walking close, hands almost grazing, until they did graze. 

“It’s okay, right?” He asked her.  
She nodded in response, and his hand found hers.

A warm feeling went through both their bodies.

He was stroking his thumb up and down her thumb metacarpal. It felt nice, then they arrived at the car.

Randall opened the shotgun door for her and closed it once she was inside, and made his way to the driver’s seat.

They had been on the road for about two minutes, listening to the radio on a low volume.

He took the hand closer to her off the stirring wheel, and opened his palm above Amren’s hand.

“Can I?” He asked. He wanted to hold her hand. But he already had held her hand earlier.  
Why did he ask? Because this time, it also meant that he’d be almost directly touching her upper thigh.

He felt about her in a way that’s difficult to explain, because he felt attracted to her, he felt like he owed her and he felt the magnetism that emanated from her. He felt that all this; accidentally meeting in the lab and and both turning out to be wolves; that it meant that they could trust each other and not hide anything from one another, and he thought, that maybe they could be more than just allies and lovers. Hell, he thought, that maybe he could fall in love all over again.

Amren didn’t say anything. She looked up at the windshield. The sky looked empyreal; barely earthly.  
Then she looked over at her date. He was looking at the road -as he should.- and he was looking soulful.  
Now, I might add, that between his question and this exact moment had passed not more than six seconds. 

She was still looking at him, and then she interlaced their fingers together, letting their hands rest on her upper thigh. She trusted him.

“So you’re telling me you have a musketeer ancestor?” Randall took a gulp of his coke.

“Yeah! I’m related to four of the most important musketeers; Aramis, Athos, Porthos and Tréville. They were all uncles and cousins and nephews.” Amren said, still with a piece of chicken in her mouth.

“They were real? How did these guys end up on the other end of France?”

It was already nighttime. They sat in Hamish’s car, facing each other and having some really interesting conversations. Randall took a picture of it earlier.

“Semi. They were based on real musketeers. And you know, the musketeers had to be dissolved because there were no more funds and they ended up in the countryside.” She tried to explain.  
It had never been relevant or influential in any case, in any point of her life. It will be in a few months; Amren just didn’t know that yet.  
Plus, they were talking about family.

“So you’re like, aristocratic?” He asked, putting a whole nugget in his mouth. 

“Kinda?” 

Bullshit. She was. She had a nice house in Lozére, a very nice apartment on the campus of an expensive university and a goddamn Ducati back at home. But she donated so much money to people in need and was one of the softest and kindest humans you’d ever meet.

“Kinda?” He swallowed his nugget.

The girl shrunk her shoulders and ate a french fry. Yummy.

“Hey, tell me about you. Why did you get into medicine?” She wanted to know.

“Well, I had this plan; finish my studies, go overseas to save lives and then open up a practice.” 

He looked around at the bags and plastic and paper around in the car, there was no food left, only Amren’s bag of french fries. He stole one.

“But you know, the Knights happened. And, don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the best things to happen to me, but it kinda flipped my whole world upside down.”

“But can’t you still do all that? Maybe not go overseas, but the rest is very plausible.”

“I mean, if I’m still alive, yes. Knights don’t live very long. Hamish’s been a knight for seven years, he’s practically geriatric.”

“Ah yes, forgive me, I forgot werewolves are hunted and you’ve got the Hermetic Order of the Blue Rose somewhere on campus.”

“You know about that?”

“Yeah. The Order and the Knights go way back in history, and sometimes, journals get lost overseas and end up in other wolves’ dens. And I’m Wikipedia smart.”

“You’re part of a pack? I thought you were a lone wolf, judging by what you told us yesterday.”

“It’s not a pack, it’s more like this one tiny cult admiring Sanguinaire and every time anyone of the town turns 18, they get sent into the locker chamber.”

As weird as it sounded, that was a pretty good explanation. She lived in a smallish town deep in the province, lost to most of the world. And there were these four or five people that took care of the wolf hide, and the journals, among other things.  
And everyone, on the full moon after their 18th birthday, were brought to the locker chamber, and the wolf would choose the champion.  
But of course, that didn’t happen a lot. Maybe once every hundred years; counting that the werewolves died aged seventy or so.  
Somehow, Sanguinaire had sworn to protect the town, because they were the one that founded it in the first place. The town was called Tanière de Loup.

“Can I ask you something more personal?” She asked, her eyes shining in the dim lighting of the car.

“Yeah, sure.” Now he was intrigued.

She swallowed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Did you only take me out because you owed me for what happened yesterday?”

Randall sat straight in his seat and scratched the back of his head.  
Amren braced herself for the response; it could either make her infinitely happy or somehow devastate her.

“To be honest, I wanted to take you out since you gave me that coffee the other day.” He explained.

“And I guess I was just waiting for an excuse.”  
He was nervous. 

Silence for what felt like an eternity. When actually, it lasted two seconds.

Amren crunched the paper wrappers into a ball and put them to the side, quickly.  
She leaned forward to him. To kiss him.

“I really, really like you.” She whispered, not even an inch from his lips. The ambiance in the car was getting more and more hot.

“Just kiss me.” He said, softly. His eyes were looking down at her lips, and her eyes were looking at his eyes.

He looked up to see her, staring down his soul; making every last bone tremble, every inch of skin shiver and all of him melt under her bare breath.

His dark eyes found the heat, the intensity, the magnetism in hers. They wanted each other. So bad.

“Please.” He muttered, still looking into her eyes. He saw the wolf hiding behind them as much as she saw the wolf behind his.

“Gladly.” And so she did.

Her lips pressed on his, gently at first.  
Moving with the beat of their hearts.

Her hands were holding onto the backrest of his seat, the driver’s door and sometimes the window, supporting her in that position.

His hands were free, though.  
One of them found its way to the nape of her neck, the other one on her lower back, threatening to go even lower.

Back to the kiss; We already know that the French kiss very nice, but Randall? He was showing her the seventh heaven. And all of them, to be exact.

He bit her lower lip, hard enough to make her moan slightly but not careless enough to make her bleed. 

He intensified the kiss, holding her closer and tighter, opening his mouth, letting his tongue grab the spotlight.

But you know what? Amren wasn’t a bottom. She took off her jacket and changed positions; she pulled up the skirt of her dress for mobility and moved on top of him. She was now sitting on his lap.

One of her hands under his jaw, the other on the back of his head, gently playing with his curls.

The hand he had on her neck, went to her hip, like the other one.  
He traced her down from hip to thigh, and went up again, but this time under her dress. 

Her skin was soft. And it only took one caress on some of her vertebrae to give her goosebumps.

And you know what? She wanted equality.

She broke the kiss to pull off his hoodie.

One last time before bringing him to the edge, she kissed his lips again. Ghostly, barely even pressing; leaving him wanting more. 

And proceeded to kiss down his jaw, making him pull back his head, to leave her doing her excruciatingly-delightfully-well-done job.

Kissing down his neck, sucking and biting him; making him want more.

Amren was leaving a trail of heat and something terribly addicting on Randall’s skin.

Down by his clavicles, she found the collar of his shirt.

“Can I?” She asked, whispered in his hear, seductively.

Randall opened his eyes, only a bit, and looked at her; hopeless, just where she wanted him.

“Yes.” He whispered back.

That’s when he decided to take control.

He leaned forward, making her lean back into the stirring wheel, and took off his shirt.

He kissed her, desperately, hungrily, sloppy and dirty.

And suddenly stopped. One centimeter away from her lips, leaving her in a gasp.

“Do you want to?” He asked.

“I want you.” Always you.

As fast as inhumanly possible, he unzipped the back of her dress and pulled it off.

And there she was; the most wonderful girl he’d ever known, sitting on his lap, looking at him like him like she wanted him more than anything, and tonight, she was his to taste.

Randall kissed her, letting his lips capture hers, still hungry. 

He kissed her jaw, bit her earlobe, licked, sucked and marked his way until he reached her bra. 

“I hate to break the mood but Hamish said to not fuck in the car.” He stopped doing her to inform her of it.

“My place?”

“Your place.” They smiled and kissed one last, tiny time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you all so much thanks for the 450 hits!!!!  
> Happy Randall, Protective Randall, Horny Randall and Cute Boyfriend Randall is on his way!


	7. Good Night, Mon Chèri.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She smiled, covering them both with the duvet properly and said;  
> “Goodnight, mon chèri.”
> 
> “Good night.”
> 
> And they fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some juicy ass smut which I hope you enjoy because from here on there’s probably gonna be some kind of plot maybe? What do you think.

To keep things like you want them, I won’t narrate the part where they both get dressed again and drive to Amren’s apartment. But I will tell you that they didn’t speak; because 1, the sexual tension couldn’t be cut with a sword, and 2, because they were both thinking about what’d happen once they stepped into the apartment.

This is what happened once the door opened:

Amren tossed her bag into the kitchen, closed the door with her heel and proceeded to pin Randall against the first empty wall she found, he groaned, because the wall was hard, and because he liked it.

His hands were all over her, her hands were battling with his hoodie, until she finally managed to also throw it into the kitchen, on the countertop.

And she was trying to get him to her room, they stumbled across the hallway, lost their shoes, socks; Randall lost his tee and sweatpants; Amren lost her dress, tights and denim jacket, and miraculously ended up inside her room, and more or less close to the bed.

While kissing and having hands all over each other, her hands were cupping his cheeks and his hands were slithering from her shoulder blades, down her spine, appreciating oh so very much the curve of her ass, and stopping just underneath it, to lift her up, and hold her in that position where her legs hugged his waist, and she could begin to physically feel his horniness, just a bit.

Amren smiled into the kiss when she felt him, because of course that hadn’t separated their lips since they walked into the place.

In the darkness of the room, the only thing that kept them from the pitch black night was the waning gibbous of the moon, shining through the window next to her room.

Randall walked to the bed, Amren in his arms, and somehow managed to get her on the bed, laying upwards and him on top. 

He looked into her eyes for the millionth time that night, because every time he looked into them, he saw something different. It was like looking into the dark water of the ocean, not knowing how deep it is or what’s swimming underwater, he saw the rawness and the spiritual nudity she was in before him, and kissed her again.

Her legs were still wrapped around him, and he was grinding against her, making her moan slightly every time his arousal touched her core.

Randall began lowering his kisses, down her cheek, the end of her jaw, and went further down to her neck.

“Do you want me to?” He whispered.

Marking her. He was going to love-bite her neck, leaving hickeys all over.

Amren moved a curl out of his face, to see those soft and kind chocolate eyes, but she didn’t find softness and kindness in them now, she found desire and heat, a hunger to devour her whole. And you could say she wanted that too.

“Please, mon chéri.” She answered. And if you ask him, he’d deny it, but Amren talking in French seriously turned him on.

He started biting and sucking, licking and kissing all over the base of her neck, much to his pleasure, she moaned in the softest way possible, biting her lower lip.

He began going further down, leaving a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses from her collarbones, through her chest.   
With a bit of her help, he got rid of the bra.

Randall kissed her chest, and decided that nibbling on one of her nipples was something that would definitely please her. And so he did.

The tip of his tongue was drawing circles on her areola, and kissing in the most subtle of ways, making her moan and shiver.

He liked having her like that. Sure enough, they knew each other since three days ago, and didn’t exactly know anything about each other. Hell, he didn’t know if she actually liked him for something more than a one night stand, but worries aside, he could ask that later on.

Her hands were in tugging on the bed covers, grabbing them and almost holding them in fists.

He went lower, continuing his trail of wet kisses until he reached the waistband of the last piece of clothing on her. And didn’t do anything about it.

Instead, he kissed down her hipbones, and made his way to her upper thighs, and gently spread her legs. 

He looked at her again. First at her face. She had the beauty of an angel, and even so, she was rotten with lust. Then he looked at her sex, still under the fragile protection of her panties, and slick with arousal, which he could now see, thanks to the damp spot on the soft fabric.

Small kisses, short licks and soft bites; all over her inner thigh, making her breathing shake.

He was enjoying this so much. Teasing her. He wanted to make her beg. 

Once Amren was aching for him to fuck her into the mattress, and he wasn’t doing anything remotely close to doing so, he went all the way back up to her mouth, and kissed her again.

Her hands were on the mattress at first, trying to get a decent enough position to turn the situation around, which meant that her hands had to be holding his, tightly. And so, her hands slithered over the covers of her bed and under his hands, getting the firm grip she needed.

In one swing, she had Randall under her, and feeling his length against her underwear.

“You don’t want to tease me, Randall.” So much for Randall being dominant. But being threatened in that manner only managed to heat him up more.

Both his hands were spread out on the sides of the bed, holding hers.

She kneeled on top of his hardened member, teasing him by moving her hips in circles slightly, looking straight into his dark eyes.

“Why’s that?” He teased, thinking that what she was gonna do was ride him, at last.

“Because I’m better at it than you are, mon chéri.”

Amren joined his hands by the wrists above his head, pinning them down.

She joined their lips together again in a fervent kiss, biting his lower lip, much to his pleasure.

And when her tongue darts out to explore him further, his lips part willingly for her, meeting tongues in his mouth.

A pause to breathe, leaving him open mouthed bare millimeters from her. One small, somehow chaste kiss on his lips, as she starts grinding their cores together, and he groans, making her kiss him yet again, hot and messy. After all, she was grinding herself on his hardness, slick with arousal.

She stopped grinding, as the arm she had left slithered down his torso, caressing his toned body and landing on his boxers, above them to be exact. Just on top of his bulge.

That’s when Randall noticed; maybe Amren wasn’t the begging type.

Her hand was now almost ghostly wrapping her hand around him him, when she began massaging it, while kissing him.

Wet in pre-cum, moaning lazily into the kiss. 

Her other hand went looking for the night stand, in search of a condom. Opened the top drawer, fished one out and put it on the bed, on top of the pillow.

He was losing his mind. Open mouthed, trying to have at least as much control over himself to keep on kissing her. Until she stopped kissing him, and stopped moving her hand.

“You proved your point. Can I please fuck you now?”

“I know I did.” She didn’t answer the question, but kissed him again instead.

“Is that a yes?” He asked, into the kiss.

“Mhmm” She mumbled and put the preservative on his palm.

Somehow, he managed to regain control, and was right on top again.

Amren’s thumbs hooked into the waistband of his boxers, as did his thumbs in her panties’ waistband; Leaving them both completely naked in the eyes of the other.

Randall ripped open the plastic and put on the condom. He had to take one of his hands to position it at her entrance, the other one leaning on her side, trying not to crush her.

And slowly, began pushing it in.

His hips were getting closer and closer to her, his lips on hers, both moaning into the kiss. And god, it felt good. 

So good.

“Chèri, please.” She breathed, parting from his lips, in hope that the message would come through despite her ragged breathing.

“Mmhm” He bit her lower lip, beginning to move his hips, in and out, soft thrusts at first.

Amren lifted her legs, hugging his waist. Randall began deepening, quickening his thrusts nto her.

Skin on skin, pearls of sweat forming on their foreheads and torsos, their bodies grinding together. He made sure that there was always, always contact; not just the fact that they were indeed making sweet sweet love and sharing a sloppy, open mouthed, wet kiss right there:

With every push, their hips clashed together in an addictive way, then his toned abdomen would caress across hers like a wave, arriving, as a consequence, to their chests; her softness and tenderness crushing into his also toned pecs.

“Is this-“ He whispered.  
“Do you like this?” He asked.

“Mmhm, very.” She kissed him. “Make it harder.” 

And he did. 

Oh, God. And they moaned, and kissed and they were doing it hard but they were doing it with tenderness and with love, and it was so raw. Because they barely knew each other’s last name’s but there was something about Randall that she wanted as never knew she did, something about him that made you want to stay. But there was something about her that had rendered him speechless and mute in adoration, something that made you never want to leave. 

Soon enough, she was being pounded and their noises drowned out in a kiss that seemed to never end.

And something did end. Rather; something happened. What they call an orgasm. Randall was feminist enough and good enough to make her come as well, and Amren, well, let’s just say that she was herself and that was enough for him.

He came out of her, taking off the condom and knotting it closed, leaving it somewhere on the floor, or something.

Ah, but the moon.   
Once he leaned back into the bed, covered himself in the covers with her, he laid on his side, head propped onto his hand and wrist, looking at her. How the silvery cold moonlight reflected in her eyes and was just light enough so he could see her but dim enough so he couldn’t see her looking at him too.

“I meant it, you know?” She said, looking into his eyes, playing with one of his curls.

“What?” He leaned in closer to her. “Mean what?”

“That I really, really like you.” 

Randall cupped her jaw, kissing her briefly.

“In case it wasn’t obvious,” he said, laying down on a side, allowing Amren to be the little spoon. 

“I really, really, really like you, too.” He snuggled into the back of her neck and kissed gently one of her last cervical vertebrae.

She smiled, covering them both with the duvet properly and said;  
“Goodnight, mon chèri.”

“Good night.”

And they fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god it’s been so long since I last updated and dear fuck I missed it,,,, writing smut is hella draining so I will probs not be doing it too much.  
> Also it’s like. Five AM. But I wanted to finish this ASAP and turns out ASAP means tonight-no-matter-at-what-cost. But you know, I’m very happy this is getting as many hits as it’s getting and I am a bit of a people pleaser after all so you know,,, whatever.  
> Good night.


	8. French Toast and Wire Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The white bedsheets clashed against Randall’s sun-kissed skin.   
> And the dark red marks on her neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. I have announcements to make. In first place, Amren has brown hair. And why have I decided that she needs to have at least one physical quality?  
> BECAUSE I MADE HER AN INSTA ACCOUNT!!!   
> her face will not be shown fully or so but the pics on there can either be found on my pinterest board “Amren Chassé” (which is also linked in the first chapter) and on Alizeé Gamberini’s insta (shes the girl I’ve decided that somewhat looks like what I imagine Amren looking in real life, and ACTUALLY FRENCH TOO!!!)  
> the link —> https://instagram.com/dressedinsilk?igshid=1l7tm0xqsvd5e //// but if it doesn’t work you can always look up “dressedinsilk” on insta and although the acc is private I will accept all requests (and follow back.) the pics are dated so that y’all can locate yourselves on the timeline on which I’m writing the fic.

Sunday.

Clear, eleven in the afternoon sky. 

The white bedsheets clashed against Randall’s sun-kissed skin.   
And the dark red marks on her neck.

He was laying almost face down on the bed, as if he was about to receive a massage. She was laying on her side facing him, one leg sprawled out on his lower back -and beginning of his butt- and one hand on his hand.

Amren woke up first.

“Chèri, I’m gonna make breakfast.” She kissed his shoulder blade.

“Gmnng” She guessed that meant good morning.

“You coming?” She got up, and looked for her panties.

“Mmhnm” That meant yes. Probably.

She found her panties. Put them on, and stared daggers at her bra. No bra day is Sunday, so just like that, she went topless with only some panties to her kitchen.

“Fucking cold.” She muttered, opening the lights.

Amren opened the pantry, got out some loaf bread and placed it on the counter.

On her way to the fridge to grab milk and eggs, she found a red hoodie. Randall’s.

She put it on, and hugged herself, breathing in the smell. He smelled good.

Randall did smell good; of antiques and a rainy forest. It reminded her of home, Lozére. She missed the place, but Canada was treating her right. The bagged milk was weird though.

She opened the bag of bread, leaving that little plastic wire thing somewhere on the counter.

Meanwhile, Randall sat in the bed. Having somewhat of a crisis.

“Get your ass up and go help make breakfast. You can, you know, ask her over breakfast, what’s your relationship now. You know, like, chill. Chill.” He whisper-muttered to himself. 

He got up, put on his boxers and his tee. He found the door, after looking at the four walls of the room, and walked through it, in search for the kitchen.

He saw five doors; he assumed the closed one was her closet, maybe? Since he hadn’t seen any proper cupboard inside the bedroom. Bathroom was a white one, half open.   
Next up was a big ish hole in the wall; the living room door. As if that four wallled room didn’t have its fourth wall. It had a balcony and some windows, and on the wall on his left was a half-glass half-wood door, to what seemed like the kitchen.

What meant that the next entrance was the kitchen door, and the last door was the entrance to the apartment. He didn’t see all this when they came in yesterday night. The fact that the lights were turned off and he was not were probably the cause of that.

Smell of vainilla and melting butter in a pan lingered in the air from the kitchen and a part of the hallway. Nice.

“Heyy!” Randall said, occupying Amren’s attention for a brief instant.

“Mornin’-“ she answered, whipping some milk and two eggs in a glass bowl, mixing in vainilla and some sugar, well, a lot of sugar. “What are your thoughts on French Toast?” 

“My sister used to make torrijas for us on Sundays,” Torrijas were a central Spanish recipe, similar to French Toast. The Carpio last name was Spanish, actually. The Carpios moved to Canada around World War II, or something?  
“So that’s a definitely yes.”

She smiled, continuing to make them. He was a bit fidgety, but keeping his cool, at least apparently. As soon as she had the first two slices of toast soaking in the milk-egg-sugar-vainilla mixture, she placed them into the pan with care, both to not break them and to not burn herself.

While this was happening, Randall walked around the kitchen, looking over her shoulders to see what exactly she was doing, watching how her feet seemed to almost dance without any music on the tile floor. 

Until he saw the plastic-wire thing from the bread, and grabbed it.  
He twisted it into a ring. As best as he could, at least it was round-ish.

As Amren took out two plates and put them on the counter, Randall went on one knee, as if he was proposing to her.

“Wh- What are you doing?” She asked, looking at the malformed ring in his hand.

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?” He said. And before giving her the chance to reply. “Because I honestly like you a lot and I think we could really be something and I feel like you could do me good and that I could do you good too even though you’re already awesome on your own,” he paused one second, or less. It felt like less.  
“But if you don’t wanna that’s also completely ok and I hope you don’t change lab partners and we can still be friends because—“

She didn’t say anything. She slid her ring finger into the crooked ring.  
He was speechless. Thank god, because the breakfast was beginning to almost smell funny.

“Randall.” She interrupted. “Yes, I like you a lot too; and yes, I want to be your girlfriend.” He held her hand with the ring with both of his hands as he stood up again, looking into her eyes.   
“But please, let me flip our breakfast because honestly I am not in the mood for burnt toast.”

He smiled.

A brief, boyishly teasing kiss was placed in her lips.

“Yep.”

Amren blinked, perplexed. And blushed a bit, just enough for him to see it and her ears to flush red. The boy had the gall to smirk at her. But damn her if she was gonna let that distract her from cooking.

She turned around and flipped the fucking French Toast. While flustered as fuck, if I might say.

Breakfast was done, and while Randall was doing as asked by putting Netflix in her tv, Amren cleaned up the kitchen. 

As they ate, the sun began to hide behind the biggest, darkest clouds of the whole season. And it rained down. And it rained until it thundered an the first lightning appeared barely a second after.

They put the plates and the cutlery in the dishwasher, and back again on the couch.

They were watching Teen Wolf, because why not. 

“Why do they think we get Neanderthal faces and mutton chops?” Randall said, resting his hand on her thigh, above the fuzzy blanket.

“What, you think that a hulk-dog is better?” She teased, snuggling closer.

He looked at her, acting offended, and wrapping an arm around her.   
“Not all of us can be sleek and elegant black wolves, Amren.”

She buried herself between him and the blanket.

Breathed in, breathed out.  
“You smell nice.”

He kissed the top of her head, holding her closer.

“You can keep the sweater, it looks better on you anyway.”

Amren didn’t answer right away. She had spaced out as soon as she had told him he smelled nice. She was looking at her hand; at her ring finger with the crooked white wire wrapped around it. 

She had a boyfriend. And this had happened in less than a week. But then she understood all those stupid movies on Netflix and those couples who had been dating for not more than a week and said that they were very in love and ready to marry. Because sometimes time doesn’t matter. Sometimes you find that special someone and know that you don’t want to let go. And that’s what she was thinking about right now.

“Randall?” She said, kneeling on the couch.

“Yeah?” He slid one of her loose strands behind her ears.

“I’ve thought about what you said earlier, in the kitchen.”

He looked at her in confusion but also in nonchalance. He didn’t know what she was gonna say, the intrusive thought that said that she had regretted saying yes earlier was definitely, definitely making some fucking noise.

“I think you’ll do me good,” she said, calming him down and drowning that intrusive thought in my-gf-is-beautiful juice. “And i hope this- us- I think that this really is something.”

He smiled, and although what he was about to do next was weird, he did it. He parted his legs and somehow threw Amren butt-first on his lap. She now looked as if she was being held bridal style, but in her couch. And somehow still wrapped up in the fuzzy blanket.

“Babe,” it was a pun, because she was being held like an actual babe, she enjoyed that position though.   
“You’re adorable.” And kissed her on the tip of her nose.

But Amren was quick enough and stole a kiss, a proper one.

“I’m a switch too, you know.”

“I do, I do.” He laughed.

The day was pretty much just like that. They had lunch later, finished the first teen wolf season around dinner time. Hamish and Lilith called around that time too, to check up on their friend. I want to mention that they fried some nuggets and chicken wings for lunch and for dinner they ate some soup, because it was very cold in Canada.  
But mind you, it was a damn good soup; some nice broth, small-sized pasta, carrots, celery, garlic, onion and some chicken. 

At the end of the day, it was still thundering and pouring outside, and neither of them happened to have an umbrella. So Randall stayed another night.

A night of cuddles and peaceful sleeping, mind you.

Monday.

It was six am. Amren just came out of the shower and was getting dressed; black jeans, black tee, Randall’s intense red hoodie -in an attempt to make her sex-bruised neck less attention drawing- her black-ish denim jacket and some boots. Also black.

She looked as if a vampire decided that denim suited them. 

Meanwhile, Randall also was freshly showered and wore the same sweatpants as yesterday.   
And just a tee? Oh no. Amren will not let him get sick, not that he actually could, but she lent him an oversized -for her- jacket, with black sleeves and hood, the torso was army-camouflage-print, which suited him really well and he deemed as his new favorite jacket.

Had coffee, some cereal, watched half an episode of teen wolf while having cereal, and wandered off to campus. He went to grab his school stuff at the den, and some knight business to attend to, she went to the library to do some studying, and she was dying to check out those books bound in human flesh. Because she was a bit of a weirdo sometimes and an overall nerd.

“He lives!” Hamish said as soon as Randall opened the door.

“Did you get laid?” Lilith asked, in her usual tone, and eating some crunchy bacon.

“Why the fuck do you think I’m back two nights later, Lil, because we were studying?” He emphasized on the studying.

“If you fucked in my car I am so killing you. You will be so dead-“ He was interrupted mid-anger threat

“Calm down Hamma Bead,” He calmed down at that, but the nickname irritated him anew.   
“We went to her place.”

“So are you dating now?” Lilith joked. And rightfully so; he had spent almost the whole weekend at her place, and that’s not something you do when you get a one night stand. 

“Yeah? Yeah.” He said. Don’t take it as a cliche, but he still wasn’t believing it. Not because she was so pretty or because being French automatically made her hot, but because he felt like something had clicked between them and that was not something that happened every day.

“We had a meeting, right?”

“Yes, we did.” Hamish said.  
“It’s the beginning of the year, that means freshmen, and freshmen mean...” he continued.

“New evil magic doers.” Lilith sat straight up, murder in her eyes, as usual.

“Yeah, I heard the ringing already. What a fucking nightmare.” Randall sat on the beanbag.

Speak of the Devil. The same horrible ringing they were talking about appeared, and disappeared again.

“I’ve been here for seven fucking years and that ringing gets me. Every. Single. Time.” Hamish massaged his temples.

“Lil and I not but the feeling’s mutual.” He said.  
“Anyway, Amren is at the library, checking out those books that you- “he motioned towards Lilith. “find so interesting. See ya.”

They said their goodbyes and he went in his way to said library.

Amren sat at the library desk she had chosen, in one of the more secluded areas, staring mindlessly into her bag.

“Amren?” Randall said, once he found her.  
“You okay, babe?”

She turned around, facing him. 

“We may have a problem,” she grabbed something out of the bag. “or we may have a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

He looked at her hand.

Holding a blue rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOO  
> yea so there’s gonna be actual plot after this chapter but there’s also still gonna be Randall moments and stuff. I hope u enjoyed it.  
> Remember to follow Am’s insta!!! I promise she’s nice


	9. Blue Roses and mostly alcohol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah! This is one hell of an opportunity, they’re gonna be excited.” Randall held her closer by the shoulder, in a more or less successful attempt to calm her down.  
> They were walking to the den. Fast. They were walking fast to the den.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit weird but I enjoyed writing it nonetheless. Have some found family fluff. And some drunk talk.

First class ended.  
It was the most boring class Amren had ever taken.  
That’s what she thought, that particular morning, because she had way more pressing matters at hand.

Like being a fucking neophyte. 

“They’re gonna be chill, right?” Amren was having a fucking stroke.

“Yeah! This is one hell of an opportunity, they’re gonna be excited.” Randall held her closer by the shoulder, in a more or less successful attempt to calm her down.  
They were walking to the den. Fast. They were walking fast to the den.

“You what now?” Hamish asked her.

“The Order summoned me.” She responded, panic hiding behind her nonchalance. She was sitting, too straight for it to look like she was just trying to avoid scoliosis.

Randall sitting next to her, shifting his eyes between Hamish and Amren.

“And I think, we could use that in our favor.”

Lilith sat on the bean bag, silently, processing what was being said.

“You think she could be our woman on the inside?” She said, spinning the alcohol in her glass.

“If I pass the selection process.” The girl being the current topic of the situation cut in. “If I pass it, I could be.”

“Hamish?” 

“I mean,” He leaned forward, elbows on the bar. “It is one hell of an opportunity.”

That meant yes. And all three of the knights would help her pass the process. This was gonna be either the best year of her life or a dumpster fire. It was up to her.

“What’s the letter say?” Lilith stood up, sat on the armrest next to Amren, looking at the letter.

“Dusk. Kneebend trail.” She read.

“Well, how about we all go back to our classes, it’s still before noon.” Dad said. I mean, Hamish said. He had a Dad Complex sometimes.

The four students went back to their respective classes. Amren was a bit more calmed down, but not calmed down completely. She wanted to get in and not disappoint the knights, even if she didn’t want to call them friends just yet. Not because of the kidnapping, of course, but because she thought that they just saw her as an ally.

Classes went by, lunchtime and a pair of more classes, until it was dusk.

The brunette found her way to kneebend trail, watching she wasn’t being followed.   
A few feet before her, six more freshmen.

“Isn’t that the frenchie?” A guy said.

“Don’t be xenophobic, you cunt.” A shorter girl said, with a thick scottish accent.

Amren joined the group. A few seconds after, two people in black hooded tunics and some creepy masks appeared.

They made coins appear and disappear in their hands, accompanying it with a riddle. They also said that only three will be selected. Somewhat cliché, she thought.

The knights -and Amren- were having Chinese at the den. And some alcohol.

“Okay. Hear me out.” She said.

“They said that I have twenty four hours to find it. And they said it’s by night five.”

“Yeah. We thought about it for a while and checked the chessboard, and then the campus map. We think it may be on the restricted area.” Randall said.

“Wanna check it out later, then?” Lilith asked, putting some noodles in her mouth.

They voted on it. Hamish was a bit skeptic, but voted in favor. They won. 

After dinner, they set out to go find that coin. The knights waited outside the restricted area, in their mighty wolf form, while their ally went to find the coin.

She found a house, and inside, a very suspicious cage.

She turned on the flashlight of her phone, trying to find out if the coin was still in there, and if there was something in that cage. And she found both. Much to her luck, whatever it was; it was currently sound asleep. 

Amren turned off the flashlight, and instead flashed her eyes red. Sometimes Sanguinaire’s night vision came in handy. As quietly and smoothly as she could, she put her hand inside it, and fished out the coin. Her eyes had also returned to normal by then.

“This has to be a joke.” The guy who called her Frenchie earlier sighed sarcastically. He stood about ten feet in before the door.

The French girl walked out of the shed, closer to the guy.  
“Sorry?” She said. 

Before any of them could do anything, the two Order members from earlier threw some sketchy looking powder at him.

“What’d you do to him?”

“Who?”

She turned around. There was nobody there. She turned back to the Order members. They were gone too.

She passed the first test.

Back at the den, the knights were celebrating their victory with her. And that meant not being sober.

“Guys! Listen to me!” Randall yelled, standing on top of the couch.

“Get down from the fucking couch.” Hamish said. Randall jumped off the couch.

“Okay, so,” he started, not without taking a sip from his drink.  
“Since my girl here,” he made heart eyes at her. “Is officially our trusted ally, and now is close to being our spy,” Yes, he was a tiny bit tipsy.

“I propose we name her a knight!” He said. “Eh? What’d y’all think?”

“I mean,” Hamish could hold his alcohol and was now in possession of the only brain cell the knights shared. “He’s got a point. Lil?”

“I say,” Yes, she was also tipsy. “We definitely need to make the knights more gender neutral.” 

“Am?” Her boyfriend asked her. “What do you think?”

“I think, I give my life to the cause!” She cheered. 

All the knights clinked their glasses together in celebration, downed the rest of their drinks.

Randall grabbed her hand for one second.  
Spinned her around to the sound of the music in the background, and pulled her close to kiss her.

Pure, and happy. One of those kisses that meant “You can call this place home. You can call us family.” And that was everything she ever really wanted from life. A found family.

Sure, they kidnapped her and interrogated her. This was her second week at Belgrave, and she barely knew these people, but they behaved with one another as if they’d spent their whole lives together, and that sat right in Am’s gut. 

And anyway, if she was going to get hurt at the end; there wasn’t a better time for mistakes than her twenties.

Interrupting her train of thought, and their kiss;  
“Get a room!” Lilith acted all grossed out, not that she was. Not bothered by what they were doing, but rather amused, and happy that one of her best friends was comfortable enough around them and around his girlfriend to semi-publicly kiss her in the living room.

The evening went on. Pretty much completely ignoring the fact that it was school night. They were drunk, and they were happy.

You know those times, after parties, when you’re not sure about the time, but it’s still night, when you and your friends are just making some sort of drunk conversation or questions you only think of when you’re drunk or in the shower? They’re moments when the soul is stripped of skin and armor, when you don’t care that much about what people think about you; when your shame has dissolved in the amount of alcohol you’ve consumed and has washed away from your body.

“What do you miss from home?” Lilith asked, for them all to answer.

“I miss my Ducati.” Amren said first. It did sound a bit weird. “I miss doing the curves at the Massif Central, the scorching noon sun on my back.” She continued. “And you know, my family.”

“I miss my family.” Lilith answered her own question. “Mostly my grandmother. She does this amazing soup on holidays. She calls me Lily-Bell.”

“Me too.” Randall said.

“Your grandma also calls you Lily-Bell?” Hamish laughed.

“No, Ham-ón de bellota.” He laughed back. Just like two children. The girls exchanged a look, then they eye-rolled. 

“My grandad had a bakery famous for his Sfogliatella.” Randall’s grandad had Italian heritage. And a bakery.

“Well, I miss-“ Hamish was about to say what he missed, but got interrupted.

“If you say you miss your Butler I will hit you.” Lilith threatened. Nobody knew if it was serious or not.

“Andrew is very nice, but I don’t miss him.” He did miss him. “I miss my sister.”

This was the only important or deep conversation they had that night, counting on the fact that they fell asleep soon after, Randall’s head on Amren’s lap, both the girls with their heads propped against each other for support, and Hamish in the armchair next to the couch, feet on the table and his neck and head in a weird but comfortable position. 

These were the knights of Saint Christopher in their most raw nature. Crawled together like a sleeping wolf pack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hEeeey   
> Ok so Randall is italian because his last name is Italian (from Naples/Napoli)   
> I also have good news! This is probably going to be a series for the following reasons: I love writing this. I love the The Order universe and lore. Randall deserves happiness. I didn’t like s2 so I’ll re write it in the next part if the series. 
> 
> PLEASE LEAVE COMMENTS I LOVE REPLYING TO COMMENTS I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH.


	10. That One Wednesday where Amren decided she was Sherlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More like hangover day. Jesus fucking Christ. Who in the history of the universe said that drinking on a Monday night was a good fucking idea. Nobody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m INFINITELY SORRY that I left you last week without an update but hopefully this is cool too because it’s currently 5.15 am here and I’m dying inside a bit but this chapter is just a bit of filler? It’s got good bits but honestly it’s not that much of an important chapter. Enjoy!!!

Tuesday.

More like hangover day. Jesus fucking Christ. Who in the history of the universe said that drinking on a Monday night was a good fucking idea. Nobody.

But even so, the four knights rose from their more or less peaceful slumbers, and said;

“Fuck.” Amren said, waking Lilith up.

“Fuck.” Lilith said, checking her phone.

“Fuck.” She said again.

“Stop swearing, it’s way too early for that.” Hamish yawned.

“Actually,” she showed him her phone. “It’s one in the afternoon.”

Amren was trying to wake Randall up. Gently shaking him, as if a small earthquake was affecting him.

“Randall I swear to god-“ Lilith elbowed him in the arm, waking him up, and earning herself a confused and sleepy stare from him.

Once all were woken up, and one of them already mixing cocktails, the newest addition to the team spoke.

“I know for a fact I have classes, and Randall does too.” Patting inside her bag for loose change to get herself a big cuppa coffee.

“Me too.” Lilith stretched out her sore and hungover muscles somewhere behind the couch.

“We all do,“ Hamish took a sip from his breakfast alcohol. “And if you’re proposing we all go to our classes and proceed as usual, I will agree.”

“But, Hamish!” Randall pouted.

“No. Listen to your girlfriend.” 

“You’re a pre-med, you can’t bail on class. Make your student loans worth it.” The mentioned girlfriend reasoned.  
“If you hurry up you’re also getting coffee from me.”

Lilith’s eyes aggressively shifted directly to Amren, as did Randall’s and Hamish’s.  
“You two too.” She gave in.

It’s not like she liked paying for everyone’s stuff, but she economically could, so why not.

Four hungover, tired students, at a coffee shop, in the middle of the afternoon and on a school day wasn’t that unusual of a sight. And the year hadn’t really begun either so people tended to slack a bit I’m the early weeks.

They were standing in the queue to pick up their coffees, Amren and Randall in front, in some kind of embrace? She was leaning against his chest with her back, he was leaning his chin on the crook of her shoulder; his arms crossed above her chest. Both with a headache.

Hamish and Lilith were a bit further back, silently complaining that they didn’t have coffee, and just slightly annoying each other a bit. Like a couple about to get a divorce.

“Après avoir terminé cette mission, nous partons.” Somebody said in the crowded shop. Something about finishing a mission and then going back.

She accidentally eavesdropped, as if her mind reacted to someone speaking French and her ears just went there. Suddenly, her headache was gone.

“Ces Canadiens, ils enseignent nos livres volés et pensent que nous venons en paix, mais le Prieuré Albrétien de la Loire récupérera ce qui leur revient de droit.” The same person said. «These Canadians, they teach our stolen books and think that we come in peace, but the Albrétien Priory of the Loire will recover what is rightfully theirs.» 

A cold feeling creeped through her skin, and into Sanguinaire, waking them up.

Shit. It was them. The Priory. The religious nutjobs from Gévaudan. 

The wolf in the girl felt threatened and scared. Why were they here? What books were they here to retrieve? 

“Ferme ta gueule, Delphine. Les Canadiens peuvent parler français et vous parlez comme une sociopathe.” A more mature voice said. This other person, was telling Delphine, that she should shut the fuck up because people in Canada speak French and that she sounded like a sociopath.   
But it didn’t deny that they were going to retrieve something.

“Amren?” Zoning her back in the present world, an employee called her, the coffee was ready.

Three hours had passed from the coffee shop incident. She was still thinking about it, worried almost sick.

To make her worry make more sense, we’ll explain. Amren and Sanguinaire weren’t just a girl that occasionally turned into a wolf. It was much more than that. Because in first place, Sanguinaire had so much people to choose from, during so many years, and they chose her.   
The hide was infused with the fear of 200 years of being hunted by half a kingdom. Sanguinaire was scared, paranoid, and you could say they had trust issues. They were a being of their own living inside another living being.

Sanguinaire isn’t a normal hide, they were born from a werewolf unable to turn back to his human form and a mountain wolf. They were alive.

Sometimes, Amren felt like she had gotten herself the most caring but scared rescue dog and she sure as fuck was going to treat this furry baby good.

But you know, whatever. This isn’t really important in the story, it’s just something irrelevant but worth mentioning.   
Little interruptions in the story like these here represent that Amren zones out and she just thinks about stuff.

“Am?” A familiar voice said. For the second time that day, she zoned back in.  
“You alright?” It was Randall, asking about her.

Of course it was him. They were in one of the clases they both had signed up for, she was pretty sure the class was about Chemistry. 

“Mhhm.” She nodded, a weak smile on her face. “Just having a bit of a headache.” It wasn’t a lie, her head did hurt.  
“You?”

“Me too. It’s like I have a tribe of desert-islanders banging their human-skin drums as hard as possible inside my head.” He put his face in his hands. “And this class is just, killing my last three braincells.” 

“I know, I know. It’s just half an hour more and then we can go.” She tried to cheer him up, but in all honesty, she also tried to cheer herself up.

The day was going by very slowly. Extremely.

And classes were over. Finally. And neither of the four had fallen asleep during any of those.

“When’s the last test?” Lilith asked, once they were back at the den.

“Should be between today and tomorrow.” She said.  
“I don’t know what it is yet, though.” 

Wednesday.

Today was a decent day. No clouds in the sky, warm-ish weather. Amren woke up, had breakfast, got ready and went to her classes. Physics was the first of the day.

Just after finishing the class, she felt a strange feeling, as if there was something vibrating but not at the same time.   
A letter appeared in the pocket of her jacket.

The observance test. It said;  
“There’s an Order member in one of your two following classes. Find out who and ask this supposed Order member if they’re in the Order.” 

It sounded pretty straightforward. The next class was psychology.

Amren spent her teenager years watching Sherlock. That just gave her enough confidence to know what she was doing.

She scanned thoroughly the whole room and the students in it. 

There isn’t much of a physical profile for an Order member she could’ve established, she had to rely on her sixth sense and a bit on Sanguinaire’s ability to smell.

There was this one girl in the front center of the class. Not taking enough notes, which could imply that she already knew something about psychology. If you sat close the professor, didn’t take too many notes, it meant that you didn’t care too much about the prof asking you questions. Something was off about her.

Sanguinaire came to help. The smell of this girl, it was like, printer ink, Caramel Frappuccino and some Dolce and Gabbana perfume.   
The thing wrong with this one was; she was probably at Belgrave studying Psychology because her parents were rich, but she was actually not that smart. A 90 buck perfume, a Starbucks drink, not taking enough notes.  
She wasn’t very bright, but maybe she was a legacy. But if she was in The Order, she’d smell like antiques and old books instead of printer ink. She wasn’t Amren’s girl.

Next.

A girl that looked like she followed the light academia aesthetic, but make it a tad preppy.  
She took lots of notes, which implied that she was either not that good in psychology or an overachiever. Her posture was straight and correct. Probably a Little Miss Perfect.   
Didn’t draw too much attention to herself, sitting close to the wall and in the back.  
But that implied that either she had a good vision, or wasn’t just taking notes about the class. 

Sanguinaire’s turn again.

This one smelt like sage, the student library, old leather and mildew. Also known as old leather-bound books. The sage was also just. A stereotype. For witches.

This one was the one she was looking for.

“Dismissed!” The professor said, very much bringing Amren back to reality.

She started gathering up her stuff, without interrupting visual contact with the girl.  
Once they were outside the class, she followed her into the women’s toilet, as discreetly and non-stalky as she could.

“Hi um, could I ask you something?” She asked the girl before she entered a stall.

“Yeah! Sure. But can you wait a minute?”

“Mhm,” she nodded in response. “Do your thing.” That sounded a bit weird. Amren raised her eyebrows and opened her eyes as wide as oranges when she noticed what she actually said.

A minute went by. Then another. Then she heard the stall opening again.

“It’s you, right?” She asked. The girl was startled, as was understandable.

“I’m, what, exactly?” She said washing her hands.

She checked all the other stalls and leaned on the entrance door of the toilet.  
“You’re the Order member, the one on my observance test.”

The girl said nothing, but the look in her eyes said that she was the one.  
Out of thin air, appeared two actual Order members dressed in their usual and not-creepy-at-all robes from the middle stall, walk-in out of them and in front of the other girl, hiding her completely.

“You have passed the last of your tests.” The taller one said in a male voice. “You have been summoned, and will receive more details in the near future.” And went to their respective stalls again.

The girl was still there.

“Hi. I’m Alyssa Drake. And I’ll be tutoring you.” She reached out her hand for Amren to squeeze it.

“I’d introduce myself, but I guess you already know me. Call me Am.” She squeezed Alyssa’s hand.

“Okay, so, as you should’ve figured out by now, the location of the Temple is secret.” It was a Secret Society, no shit Sherlock.  
“Meet me in front of Belgrave Hall at ten?”

“Do I have to bring anything?”

“No, but you might want to go dagger shopping later.”

It had been an hour since that more than extravagant human interaction.  
What did Amren do? Message the Knights’ group chat, to which she had been added earlier today, that she was paying for drinks at the Blade and Chalice.

“See! I told you that she’d do it!” Randall told Lilith, who looked about as grumpy as always but was honestly very proud of her too. I mean, another Lady Knight who was smart and that she actually liked? You bet she was gonna celebrate that. 

Hamish was quite excited too. Besides being a new addition to the group, she was going to be quite useful.

The fluffy haired boy pulled his girlfriend closer to him, with the arm he had resting somewhere between the girl’s shoulders and her backrest, and kissed her.

Not exactly chaste either. Her hand on his jawline and their lips just playing with the other’s. Just enough to taste the alcohol on each other’s tongues.  
A simple kiss, really. But I guess it’s sweeter when the person you’re kissing is probably the one you’re falling in love with.

“I haven’t had enough alcohol to watch this yet.” Hamish chucked, earning a middle finger from the boy, and a chuckle from the girl. Which interrupted the kiss. Sadly.

“Yeah, me either.” Lilith also agreed. The couple rolled their eyes.

“Okay so once I’m officially inside, what am I supposed to do?” Amren asked quietly.

“Keep us updated with what they’re doing inside there.” The leader said.

“And learn some cool magic!” Randall said, pointing first at him and then at her with finger guns. 

“For the sake of humanity, do not do that again.” Lilith said, referring to the gesture he’d done, making the other girl choke on her drink a bit.

It was almost ten. Amren was walking to Belgrave hall. What a creepy place.

Once she was there, Alyssa came soon after. 

For the sake of the narrative I’ll be keeping the next part short.

They crossed the wire fence, got inside the building, and walked through it until they got to a room.  
The wall opened up and a secret little passage was revealed, it led to something that looked like a bar? Or a pub?

She was given robes and indications to put on the robes and at some point, go into a bigger room to be properly initiated alongside of the other neophytes.

What she saw next scared her a bit. A room full of people dressed in hooded tunics and the most possibly disturbing masks.

“Amren Chassé, you have been summoned, will you heed the call?” The person in front of her said, giving her her own set of mask and tunic. Yippee-Ka-Yay, creepy sect clothes.

“Yes.” She said.

That was basically the whole thing. 

Once the three new Acolytes were initiated, everyone took off their mask and hood, showing their true faces.  
In the crowd were mostly students, some teachers and some people that she’d seen around town or the campus. Somewhere in the back was Alyssa. 

Then there was a party. A bit boring if you asked her, though, but they had expensive alcohol, so it wasn’t that bad.

“So, you got in, din’t you?” The Scottish girl said, sitting next to her on the bar.

“Yeah! I guess we both did.” 

“Erin Guthrie, by the way. That’s my name.” She introduced herself.

“Amren Chassé. Happy to meet you, Erin.” She smiled.

Oh boy. This was going to be the beginning of something big. And oh boy was she excited about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alyssa!!! Yay!!! And some light fluff. And a Priory of weird lasses. A lot if research went into the Priory. Like, a fuckton. Anyway, I hope you liked it and if it’s no trouble I’d love to hear what parts you liked in the comments.


	11. Light travels hella fast but so do lesbian nuns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re invited to a snobby party in the Order, with the same Priory that’s to blame for the Gévaudan incidents?” Hamish asked, quite perplexed.
> 
> “Yeah,” She answered, trying to remember if he was missing any details; he wasn’t. “That’s about it. Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh dear I’m late by three whole days but I really needed the research for this chapter and I also decided that werewolf lore is the best shit ever!!! Anyway I hope you enjoy

“How fast does light travel?” The physics professor said to the room.  
Yes, Amren was questioning why physics was needed as a pre-med.

“Hella.” Randall snickered under his breath, loud enough for his girlfriend to hear it, and also snicker in response.

“Yes, Hella, but how much is hella?” The prof remarked, making the boy earn being nudged in the knee by Amren. He also hid a bit inside his own arms.

Somebody in the front said the exact answer. What a fucking bragger, and both of them rolled their eyes.

“Right,” the prof said, and looked at the clock behind of him. Amren’s thigh vibrated, a text message. “Dismissed.” He said.

All the students picked up their stuff, shoved it in their backpack, and went on their way to whichever class they had now.

“Who’s texting you now? Do I have competition?” Randall joked, and put a hand on her shoulder as she unlocked her phone.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” She gave him a quick peck. “besides, it’s Alyssa.”

“Order stuff?” He asked.

“Yeah, she says it’s time for my first lesson?” She sighed.

“I can accompany you a bit though, right?” 

“Just half the way, or you’ll blow my cover.” She fake-pouted; he wouldn’t ever blow her cover.

Amren was trying to find Alyssa in the temple, and she found her at the altar.  
“So what’s the lesson?” 

“Today, you’re going to learn how to cleanse a space.” She explained.

It was pretty simple really, she explained how magic worked, all the stuff with the sacrifice, and guided her Acolyte through the whole process of cleansing.   
Afterwards, it smelled like the living room of Amren’s favorite old lady in Lozére. She was probably a witch, now that she thought about it. 

“Medicum, Acolyte, clean up. Now, please.” The Temple Magus barged into the room. Amren knew her, she worked at the university, and her name was Vera Stone. 

“Yes, Magus.” Alyssa said, gathering up all the herbs and utensils, placing them on a tray to bring them to their corresponding places.  
“Why, what’s the matter.”

“The Albretian Priory, they’re coming, and soon.” You could feel the stress in her voice. “They didn’t send a letter or even a text,” She entered the reliquary, where she was followed by the two girls who were carrying all the things from the cleansing spell. “Those French river-rats think they can barge in here unannounced-“ she stopped mid sentence, looking at Amren.  
“No offense, Acolyte.” She excused herself. And the girl understood, both the pressure she must be under from having a day job and a secret society night job, and she too, thought the Priory were a bunch of river-rats.

“None taken, Magus.” 

Her eyes shifted back to the blonde. “Miss Drake, is there anyone higher ranking that you in the temple?”

“No, me and my Acolyte are the only ones here.”

Vera sat down on her big chair behind her desk, rubbed her forehead in a pinching motion from her temples, closing her eyes.

“Well it’s too late to call any Magistratus, you two will have to suffice.” She said, calmer now.

“Yes, Magus.” Both the girls said.

Alyssa and Amren exited the room after leaving all the stuff they had in their hands in their respective places, and finished cleaning up the altar, which also had to be done magically, so they made that into a lesson too.

The doors opened abruptly, two women walking, the sound of their shoes on the tile floor clicking and clacking, both walking with a straight posture and might. One of them did, at least, the other looked as stiff as a corpse.

Of course Vera heard that, and barged through the doors of the reliquary, her two disciples stepping behind her. 

The tension between these two women, the slight ambiance of murder lingering in the air.

“Prioress Selene, I presume.” She crossed her arms over her chest, and asked defiantly.

“Temple Magus Vera.” The taller one said, now known as Selene, with a nice southern French accent.  
Both of the women had on pantsuits, and even so, the taller one looked around her mid thirties and like she was higher ranking, more laid back and kinda looked like a dark academic; while the other one looked like she was a new member, around her mid-twenties and was trying too hard to gain respect and rank.  
“We’re sorry our message didn’t arrive earlier, but we’re here now.”

“Indeed you are, and I’d hope we can all have a pleasant evening today, celebrating our new alliance.”   
Alyssa blinked surprised, Amren was a bit worried about what she had heard at the coffee shop the other day, but didn’t say it.

“Vera, could we please drop the tough act? This is no way to begin any kind of alliance.” Selene said, a hint of humor in her voice, and with reason; if you started an alliance with staring daggers and threatening tones in your voice, if wasn’t a good sign.

“Yes, I guess we can, it’s only polite to do so.” Alas, Vera was not acting. She was like that, always.

Selene changed topics quite quickly; “This is one of our new recruits; Delphine Marseille.” Ah, the sociopath from the coffee shop. 

“Alyssa Drake, she’s been in the Order since last year, and has earned the title of Medicum.” The blonde smiled friendly. “And Amren Chassé, Acolyte since this week.” The brunette looked at Selene, something oddly familiar in her eyes, and also smiled.

“You’re invited to a snobby party in the Order, with the same Priory that’s to blame for the Gévaudan incidents?” Hamish asked, quite perplexed.

“Yeah,” She answered, trying to remember if he was missing any details; he wasn’t. “That’s about it. Yeah.” 

“And you’ll be ok?” Lilith asked.

“You’re sure no one will try and woo you?” Randall asked.

They were actually sweet, the Knights. The way they all loved and cherished each other was almost as if they were married but also siblings that somehow managed to behave some of the time.

“Yes, I’ll be alright, Lil.” Lilith had decided that Amren could also call her Lil, from time to time. She still managed to not believe the part where she said she was gonna be ok, though.

“And, honestly, I can’t assure you that, chéri.” She looked at him, and at this response, he frowned. “Nonetheless, what I do assure you, is that I’m not sleeping with anyone tonight.”

An idea popped into the guy’s head.

“And yes, I do have to go.”

Lilith was silent for a couple of seconds, took a sip of her drink, and then was silent for a second more.  
“Didn’t you have to dress with a white shirt and a black tie?” She wondered.

“Yep.” She took an excruciatingly long sip from her drink. God, she hated wearing ties. 

“I know for a fact that Randall has a thing for girls in power suits.” Hamish said, breaking the silence.

“I swear to god, I’m never telling you anything ever again.” The previously mentioned stated. It was just one almost erotic dream about the pink power ranger.

“What? Why?” She asked. Lilith was cackling and wheezing in the background, remembering that one time Randall told them about his dreams.

Thanks to Hamish’s comment, Randall’s disappointment in Hamish’s secret keeping ability and Lil laughing in the background, the room looked like a children’s playroom.

“What?” Amren tried shaking her boyfriend’s leg, trying to get an answer. “What?!” She threw a cushion at him, at which he put his drink down, and tickled her until she cried.

“Lil-“ She laughed. “Lilith! H-“ She could no longer control if she laughed or spoke actual words. “Help me! Please!” She finally managed to string together three words.

Lilith didn’t skip a beat, and was instantly tickling Randall off Amren. 

Hamish didn’t need a lot of time to notice that his precious cocktail glasses and cups were in terrible danger, and took them off the table. He tried to get them off the table, but got caught by Randall, who was now being tickled by two girls, and wanted to even out the fight. 

Yes, some alcohol spilled over, and a lamp almost broke. But who was going to say no to a tickle war? Not Amren, Randall, Lilith nor Hamish.

It was, and I quote as Erin said it, “time to serve a bunch of Dolores Umbridges and Severus Snapes their bloody drinks for the whole night, because apparently Magic is capitalism too.” 

The night was going, well, it was going. The Acolytes were bartenders so it was as good as it could get, plus, they were allowed to drink something, just not enough to be tipsy. They weren’t getting any tips either. 

Amren was cleaning some cups and glasses at the bar, mixing some cocktails because she had asked Hamish for the recipe of the Knights’ signature drink so she could do it too. 

The evening was finally getting to it’s end, nothing special had happened either, until she accidentally eavesdropped on a conversation, and in French, no less. It was as is every whispered conversation someone had in French; Amren’s ears would give all their attention to it.

“Sel, you’re sure Sanguinaire is here?” Delphine asked her. Why the fuck where they talking about them.

“Yes, Delphine, I can feel them.” She said. There was a strained breath from Selene’s side, as if she was concentrating too hard. “And something else,” What did she mean? The Knights of Saint Christopher? Why was she apparently able to sense werewolves?   
“Something that’s not from here. Something that could be either bad, or cursed.”

“Sel, I love you, but sometimes you don’t make sense.”

Both the women moved closer.

“She’s hearing us, isn’t she?” Delphine whispered, in a language that Amren didn’t know she herself spoke, her hide probably spoke it. Sanguinaire was scared of them; you can’t just get rid of trauma over the years. Some shit stays with you. And with that, she stopped eavesdropping. As startled as she was, she started washing the glasses violently, trying to think about literally anything else.

Didn’t work though. The two girls came over, walking oh ever so seductively but in a gay way. Delphine was wearing a velvety blue suit, Selene was wearing a velvety black dress.

“It’s Amren, right?” Delphine said.

She swallowed thickly, pretending to check something on the shelves behind her so she could get her shit together. Trying to get Sanguinaire’s shit together too.

“Mhm.” She nodded, still turning around. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“You don’t happen to be from the Southern part of France, right?” She asked, quite threateningly.

“Yeah, Lozére, why?” She was just gonna answer her questions. As chill as possible.

“That’s such a pretty place!” Selene said, this time. “We happen to live just above Lozére, our little Priory.” There was something odd about that. About the way she had said the word priory, like she didn’t mean it.

“And I’d be’ tha’ the Priory’s very pre’y too!” Thank heavens that Erin barged in, with her nice Scottish accent and her very Scottish manners.   
“Ba’ I’ll ‘ave tae tell ya’ tha’ the par’y’s over, so oan yer bikes, lasses, and see ya’ aron’!” Erin gifted them a last friendly smile and the girls realized that they’d have to catch Amren without anyone else, or their cover as a secret society might blow.

“On your bikes?” Amren chuckled. “Did you just tell them on your bikes and see you around?”

“I’ seem’d appropria’e! Ya’ look’d terrified!” She elbowed her, and soon enough, they were both chatting about the evening while cleaning up.

Amren’s entire body hurt. She didn’t like bartending; she’d done it once when she was sixteen and decided that bartending wasn’t for her.

Once she got out of the lift of her building, she found him sitting in the staircase.

“You’re home!” Randall stood up and hugged her. She needed that hug.

She wasn’t really up for discussing why he was there, so she just left it alone.

She turned on the lights, put her stuff down on a corner, grabbed her phone and went to the bathroom, somehow forgetting she wasn’t alone.

After ten minutes, when she was finished with putting on her sleepwear, brushing her hair and teeth, cleaning her face with some nice cold water and went to the toilet, she went to her room, only to find Randall there in nothing but his boxers, looking at his phone.

“Look, I’m honestly so tired I can’t even properly walk, so if you want to fuck-“ she said, putting her phone to charge.

“Oh, no.” He interrupted her. “I figured you’d be tired, probably emotionally too because of the Priory thing, so I thought maybe you wanted cuddles.” 

Hot damn boy. That was the sweetest thing Am had ever heard.

“You’re here because you thought I’d want cuddles after a very draining evening?”

“Yeah, I noticed you’re a big cuddler, but if you want me to go I’ll-“

She kissed him. Tired and sleepy, but she kissed him.

“Stay.” She whispered before giving him a goodnight peck.

Both these two painfully loving people laid down and covered up with the blanket, whispered sweet nothings and finally fell asleep, holding tight onto one another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soft Randall!! Lesbian Nuns!! Alyssa Drake being a Cool Tutor!!  
> I’m so sorry I needed so much for this chapter but I love y’all with all my heart you shit you not.  
> Ps. I am not Scottish!! If you’re Scottish or know someone Scottish and what I’ve written for Erin is wrong tell me in the comments and I’ll correct it asap!! I’m not here to mock any accents or cultures when I myself am multi-cultured!!


	12. The Prory of the evil christians turns out to be better than expected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another silence, because Am lost her shit and now had to gather it up again.  
> “Comment connais tu mon nom?” Amren asked, crouching so she was at Delphine’s eye-level.
> 
> “Téméraire.” She replied, fully awake now.
> 
> On the other side, the three other people who didn’t know French, were as confused as ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI YALL IM IMMENSELY SORRY ILL EXPLAIN DOWN BELOW BUT THANKS SEE U IN A BIT ILYYYYYY

The sun was beginning to nib at Randall’s smooth and caramel colored skin.

“Are you staring at me?” He said, waking from his fake slumber and facing his girlfriend.

“It’s really not my fault that you’re so pretty.” She smiled. Was she wrong? No. He smiled. Gosh, he was so lucky

A second of silence.  
“It’s almost quarter past seven, do you want breakfast?” She asked.

“Oh I’m served for the day.” He laughed, in that specific way that made her drown in sheer happiness and pure love.

“I really doubt that you can physically survive by looking at me.” Don’t tempt him like that.

“Oh but maybe I can,” He started kissing her, sweetly, tenderly; not caring about morning breaths or swollen eyes. 

Lips on lips, his hand on her hip, and suddenly she was leaning on top of him, that way where their chests, bellies touched and her legs parted just above his hips; not sexual unless you really wanted it to be; and yet so intimate and close.

“Breakfast.” She said, before pecking his lips one more time, and trying to get up before being abruptly pulled into bed again.

“I want another.” He pouted, another kiss.

And honestly she wasn’t going to recline the request.  
“Just one, we’ll be late.” 

And just like that, Randall captured her lips once more, this time a bit more passionately, hands on the backs of necks, curling fingers in locks and strands of loose hair; hugs that meant “I’m not leaving and I hope you don’t either.

“Okay but honestly it’s almost late now and I’m hungry.” She said breaking up the kiss yet again.

“Mhmm.” 

They were almost late. 

Luckily enough, they had the same class, and the classroom happened to not be too far away from her apartment.

Class as usual. But there was this something she couldn’t quite place. A sensation, a smell, perhaps. It felt like in her class was someone with her same blood, that smelled exactly like her, but something was off. Like when you have a secret but you can’t keep it for much longer but if you say it someone might get hurt. That’s what Amren was feeling.

But the smell, it smelled just like she did, but with a bit of rust and worn leather.

She recognized something in the short distance from her seat to the second row in the room. A head.

“That’s her, that’s Delphine.” Amren whispered to Randall.

“The one with the blazer?” He whispered in return.

She nodded, “What’s she doing here?” Not here as in in Belgrave, here as in that precise class. 

“You know, there’s only one way you’ll find out.” And he was right. They had to ask her personally.

“I really thought we were done with kidnapping this year, this year, you know?” Hamish complained about the idea of the pre-meds.

“And besides, they’re robbing the Order, why should we care?” Lilith said.

“Because, one; what if they wanna change the world Voldemort style?” Randall theorized, “And two, something’s off about her, not in the wizard way.” And it was true, there was something that screamed help and desperation about her, and, somehow, she smelled almost exactly like Amren, and it wasn’t the fact that she was French too.

“Well, do we know where she lives?” Hamish was willing to at lest give the idea a chance.

“I’m her RA.” Randall took a very proud sip from his drink, earning a hit to his ribs from his girl’s elbow, choking a bit on his drink, and everyone chuckling at the end. Yeah, just like siblings. Slightly insufferable siblings.

“Guys, she’s waking up.” Amren said from where she was sitting, which was with her legs crossed, on the floor, sipping alcohol, and looking up every few minutes to see if the kidnapped and unconscious girl was waking up. 

The three other knights came into scene, and waited until the girl, Delphine, was fully awake, in the meantime, Lilith helped Amren up, because that’s what girls do when they mostly hang out with dudes, they become sisters. Even if none of them would’ve admitted it that soon.

“J’espère que tu plaisantes.” She muttered in french.

“What did she say?” Hamish asked their Frenchie for a translation.

“She hopes we’re joking.”

One short, yet confused and awkward silence.  
“C’est toi, Sanguinaire?”

Another silence, because Am lost her shit and now had to gather it up again.  
“Comment connais tu mon nom?” Amren asked, crouching so she was at Delphine’s eye-level.

“Téméraire.” She replied, fully awake now.

On the other side, the three other people who didn’t know French, were as confused as ever.

“Babe, please, Lilith is Native Canadian, Hamish didn’t take French in his expensive boarding school and I’m Italian, please translate.” Randall asked her, breaking her out from her shock.

“We’re family,” She stood up again and spoke. “sort of.” She scratched her neck. “She’s wearing Téméraire, another hide from Gévaudan.”

“She’s a wolf?” Lilith asked.

“I am.” Delphine said. If she was being the subject of the conversation the least she could do was be part of said conversation. “And I’m not the only one.” Her French accent was much ticker as Amren’s.  
“What are you doing here, Delphine?” She asked.

“I’m pretty sure you heard me at the coffee shop.”

“I did, but if you wanted to steal from The Order, you would’ve already done that.” Amren was surprisingly good at handling interrogations, despite her having lost her shit little more than a minute ago. “There’s something more.”

“We were looking for you.”

“Why?”

“We need a spell, that spell is in Gaulish, Sanguinaire knows Gaulish, you have Sanguinaire.”

She was spilling everything. Then Am remembered, that strange feeling from class earlier, it was probably her. And besides, her hide name meant reckless so doing things without completely thinking them through was in the job requirements.

“Why did you say you were in the Priory?”

“I am.” She smirked. “Just not that one. The Albretian Priory of the Loire was overthrown centuries ago, the wolves of France and Western Europe took over.”

“Why do you keep the name, then?”

“Have you got any idea on how much paperwork we’d have to go through? Which, we are going through, because the name is too religious."

“What’s the new name?” Randall took over with his boyful yet somehow amusing behavior.

“Le Prieuré Lunaire de L’Ouest.” 

“Babe?” He looked at his girlfriend, clueless, with puppy eyes.

“The Lunar Priory of the West.” She translated for the group.

“What is that spell do you need, and why do you need it?” Hamish asked, seeing as everyone else had forgotten about that part.

“Werewolves are in threateningly low numbers in Europe, and its upsetting the natural order of things. Overpopulation of deer, boar, and other mammals that werewolves used to take care of; mass production and harvest of aconite,” She went off. “and don’t get me started on how its upsetting the magical balance of the earth.” 

“Why? What’s happening?”

“We’re being hunted just after the full moon is over, when the werewolf is turning human and we’re at our weakest.” At all points of her multiple confessions she was looking at Amren, hoping that she’d help their cause. “They’re hunters that have been trained to hunt us until there is no one left.”

Delphine’s eyes teared up. That’s when the Knights knew that they were at war and too many had already died.

“The spell we need, it’s an alteration spell; alteration spells are used to change aspects or conditions on other existing spells or curses.”

“What do you want to change?” Amren asked.

“We need to be able to shift without a full moon, we need to be able to fight back.”

“Control over the shift?” 

If you’d’ve told Amren this when she was eighteen and just after her first moon, she wouldn’t’ve hesitated. When you tell a teen that they’re going to have to break and reshape every single bone in their body once a month, they freak the fuck out, not that you can blame them anyway, because it does hurt.

“Exactly.”

Once they were over with interrogating, they served the girl a drink and sent her on her way. Meanwhile they had their cocktails, she explained how most werewolves in Europe live in packs that also happen to be covens; because the practitioners are also werewolves, thanks to their connection to the moon and nature, and because it’s a commonly known fact that werewolves are more powerful practitioners.   
Only a few cases like Amren and Sanguinaire had their own non-magic cults.  
The better part of the chat, was finding out that there were dozens of different types of werewolves, depending on the local culture and the witch who’d created the wolf in the first place; in some cases, lycanthropism was a gene passed through generations, then came the famous biting method, the drinking water from the pawprint of a wolf method. There were also the kinds of wolves that protected children, women and travelers, the kind that were more mercenaries than wolves. And the kind that literally ate newborns.  
Anyway, it was about five am when they finished.

“And?” Randall asked while stroking his girlfriend’s hair.

“And what?”

They were still downstairs, while Lilith and Hamish had volunteered to bring Delphine back to her dorm, and coming back to the Den afterwards.

“Will you help them?”

Amren cuddled herself onto his lap. “Yeah, I think I have some benefits because I’m a member, I think I could help them with the spell book part.”

“What about the hunter situation?”  
She was spacing out a bit, from sleepiness, an he was beginning to drag some of the vowels when he spoke.

“I don’t know yet. It seems like a big thing, judging from what Delphine told us. I’m not entirely sure I’d be of any help.”

“Bullshit.” He stated, eyes closing as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. So warm and nice, as if they were each other’s comfort blankets.  
“You’re the wolfiest wolf, the most scary in a hot way beast and I love you so much.”

Wait. Did he just? Did he-? Amren was in a bit of a shock, but her sleep deprivation were kinda not letting her react accordingly; it was as if she was drunk. Randall, on the other hand, had noticed about two seconds too late what he had said, not that he regretted it, but he waited for her answer, in case there was gonna be any.

“I love you too.” She said, her breath warm and tired against his skin, and one kiss on the top of her head, and they fell asleep on the couch in a surprisingly comfortable position. 

If I’m correct and you’re a rational thinker, you’ll be going “What? They’ve already said it? They haven’t been dating for even a week!” And, you know, it’s completely correct, but sometimes you fall in love so quick that you don’t even realize it until someone else tells you. And the bond between Knights had always been very intense from the beginning. If you know Randall Carpio, you’ll know how easy he can catch feels, and that he knows every corner of himself so well that he knows when he’s caught feels, and inevitably, as the loving and caring -and unapologetically direct and sincere- person he is, he won’t keep the secret for too long.  
But if you knew Amren Chassé, you knew how welcoming and open she was emotionally, always trying to make new friends -but if someone didn’t like her then that’s their fucking loss.- and being as understanding as she could. But growing up in a very foresty part of France, there were not too many people to actually date. Sure, she’d dated a pair or three of guys over the years, and as she recalls, one really really cute girl she saw at the library once.

Nonetheless, five minutes after those two fell asleep, the other two appeared.  
“You owe me twenty bucks, Hamish.” Lilith scoffed. Yes, they had been listening to the conversation and waited until they were asleep to walk in.

“Fine,” he said, pulling out his wallet and taking twenty very much Canadian dollars from it, and handing them over. “But we all knew Randall was gonna say it first. He’s a big softie, and honestly this girl, she’s the best he’s ever had.”

“Yeah…” 

“Is that, dare I say, affection you just verbally expressed?” he joked.

“Shut the fuck up.”   
Yeah, they’re really just thirteen year olds deep down.

On another part of campus, Delphine walked into her dorm, where Selene was waiting for her, gracefully laying on the bed.

“I was kidnapped. Fucking kidnapped, Sel.” She threw her bag and coat on the floor.

“Do you want me to kiss it better, Delphi?” She smiled at her, half mocking her, half not.

“Yes.” 

And honestly I will not be explaining what happened next. But it wasn’t heterosexual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jesus fucking christ im horrible. like properly horrible.  
> its been two weeks. oh my god-- well anyway school started, with that comes work and tight sleeping schedules and chores and other crap but thisll probably be the new update time because honstly i am as dense as a fucking jar of mayo. i hope you enjoyed this chapter. and im not gonna lie it was a bit of a bitch to have the doc open for two wholeass weeks buts hey it is what it is.

**Author's Note:**

> —> the OC has an Insta acc! It’s @dressedinsilk and she also has a pinterest board (link in the first chapter.)  
> —> my tumblr is @the-knights-of-saint-gay ! Please text me I love talking with you guys


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